Operation: GTFO (Day 98)

Some say a bird in the house is a sign of bad luck

Some say a bird in the house is a sign of bad luck


I knew today was going to be an interesting day.  I received an omen.  As soon as I opened the door a bird flew out of the office.  I guess it had been trapped in there all night long.  Poor thing.  You know birds can symbolize so many things, like death……..

We’ve been here approximately six weeks, and in that time we’ve discovered rodents in our office space.  There had been indicators, such as poop on our S3’s desk and bits of chewed up shit all over the place.  Out here in the desert, there’s no way of knowing what kind of rodents were up against.  It could be cute little field mice, or something more sinister like the Rat King.  (If you want to be grossed out, Google Image rat king.)

This was us, pretty much.

This was us, pretty much.

I decided we had to take drastic action after $60 worth of coffee was destroyed by the little bastards.  We came in to work one day to find they had eaten through two boxes of Ethiopian Yirgacheffe.  We were left in a state of despair during the Great Coffee Drought of 2014.  It takes about a week for Amazon to deliver, and although the PX sells Keurig machines, it doesn’t actually sell K-cups (because that makes a lot of sense).  While we were in here suffering caffeine withdrawal, Mickey and Friends were eating their way through pistachios, oatmeal squares and expensive, organic, fair trade breakfast bars.

We thought about buying traps but no one ever did because we were like, “What if we do catch a mouse?  Who’s going to take care of it?”  Our boss flat out refused.  47 and I looked at each other and basically said, “Yeah, no.”  So that idea was a bust.  At dinner the other night S6 told us a story about how his daughter used glue traps to catch a mouse because she thought it was more humane.  He went into graphic detail about how she had to rip the mouse off the glue and its legs came off.

Yeah, no.

All of this is propped up on some cardboard boxes and a bag of Doritos.

All of this is propped up on some cardboard boxes and a bag of Doritos.

There’s a pest control on post, but no one made contact with those people to see how they could help us.  Mickey felt like it was a free for all because almost every day something was eaten up.  We resorted to stacking snack boxes on top of the cubicle walls, but then I wondered if they were in the ceiling or something.

I guess not, because we found Mickey this morning.

We’ve been pretty diligent about taking the trash out, but every now and again we get a little lazy or maybe there’s only one or two things in the can.  This morning 47 is putting trash bags in the cans and she’s like, “Were these coffee creamers always in the trash like this?”  On Saturday, I did throw away from coffee creamer containers, but I had put them in the bag in the trash can.  The trash bag was all fucked up and the coffee creamers had holes in them.  Before I could really answer, 47 saw something dark inside the trash can.  She reached in and then dropped the can and started screaming, “It’s in the trash can!  It’s in the trash can!”  So when someone else starts screaming, I’m gonna start screaming.  We both were screaming, trying to run out the door.  Our S3, who has made it clear that he doesn’t like mice, was on the phone.

This was my boss, except without the dress.

This was my boss, except without the dress.

He said, “Hey, let me call you back.  We have a mouse in the house.”  Then he proceeds to grab a broom and hold it like it’s a 12-gauge shot gun.  Be advised this is a man who has put more than a few bullets down range.  He’s been on multiple real deployments.  He’s probably even kicked in a few doors.  Basically, he’s not some pansy ass soft cake, but apparently, the thought of a mouse crawling around in the office skeeves him out.  He has said on more than one occasion that he doesn’t do rodents.  He also told us a story about how a mouse got into his uniform while he was wearing it and it bit him up.  He might have PTSD from that.

47 ran out of the office to find someone who had previously said he would get rid of the mouse for us, if we ever caught it.  I was so grossed out that I had to go outside.  It was the sight of that gross little body bouncing around in the trash can when 47 dropped it.  Ugh.  I’m going to have nightmares.  I’ve been so freaked out by this whole situation that the other night while I was cleaning up my cubby, my own hair wrap scared the shit out of me.  I was sweeping and the end of my wrap flew over my shoulder.  All I saw was something dark and I thought it was a rat tail.

I'll be back, bitches.

I’ll be back, bitches.

Our S1 came and he thought the whole situation was hysterical.  He reached into the trash can and pulled the nasty little thing out with his bare hands.  I don’t know if it was dead or what because I ran around the corner.  Our CSM was like, “What the fuck is going on?”  She was trying to ask me a legitimate question about a mission she’s going on and I’m screaming like a maniac across the airfield.

I have no idea what happened to Mickey.  S1 asked us if we wanted to just get rid of it, or did we want to kill it.  It could be dead, for all I know.  Or, it could be out there, waiting….

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