Rats! the Musical

I'm picturing a cast of 60 in full rat-suit regalia with over-sized grey egg-shaped furry bodies and 10 ft. tails made out of old garden hose wrapped in pantyhose and vaseline.  Sometimes they'll follow run-of-the-mill Broadway choreography, but for the most part they'll just scurry about from one edge of the proscenium to the other, lurking in the shadow of the drop curtains and making a variety of sounds - the types of noises our protagonist, "Nickey" (not to be confused) only makes in his wet dreams and worst nightmares.  Yes, Nickey has nightmares, mostly induced by acid.  He also has AIDS.

Step aside Andrew Lloyd Webber, this 1-b is gonna take you to school.

and 1, and 2, and -jazz hands- I don't hear enough hissing - and 7 and kick-ball-change, finale!

If you're a major Broadway producer and just want to throw a wad of cash at me now, by all means, stop reading.

As for the rest of you...

Rats are a reality of living in New York, and an odd one at that.  They exist throughout the city, and in most locations share this island peacefully and co-habitate with the human minority in close proximity and mutual non-engagement.  In fact, it's exactly how most people (except farm boys) treat squirrels (with the latter shooting them with pellet guns - sorry rural friends, it's true and not as exciting as you insist).

Squirrels are rodents, and during the day they are among us.  We either choose to ignore their scavenging and scampering, or we even delight in the neurotic playfulness we project onto their stuggle for survival.  

But rats... there's very little to distinguish them from their distant squirrel kin, a less bushy tail and nocturnal habits, but what a difference it makes.  Something about rats is positively revolting to most people, including yours truly, but I can't nail down why this is, exactly.  They aren't, as a general rule, slimy.  they do carry disease, but no more so than squirrels and other unsavory urban wildlife.  They're not (usually) aggressive.

But they are sneaky, and I think this is what seals it.

A few examples from my recent time in NY:

Example 1:  I was walking past Madison Square Gardens (which is actually a circular building) about 3 weeks ago.  In front of the entrances, they have large concrete bins with plants in them, each elevated off the ground about 1-2" for some unknown reason.  These are constructed in a roughly geometric fashion from the entrace to the street, so that all walkers pass through them like walking through a checker-board.  And under each bin are an unknown number of rats, between 5 and 100, waiting for their chance to grab scraps or make it to the holy-grail trashcans everywhere.  A car backfires, and waves of rats abandon their refuge and dart toward the next bin, regardless of the people in their way.  It's like watching a small black blanket ripple across the floor.  Usually, you don't see them, but any moment they could come pouring out of the seemingly infinite cavern.

Example 2:  I was walking around Columbia campus late one evening, on my way to the library.  About 15 ft in front of me, a chatting duo of undergrad girls suddenly stopped talking and halted in their tracks near the line of shrubbery next to the sidewalk.  I continued walking toward them, curious about their abrupt alertness and silence.  Then, from 10 ft away, I hear a noise for which I have no perfect reference.  It wasn't a squeek, a hiss, or a _____ .  It was some kind of high-pitched gurgling snarl, and it produced the desired results.  After straining momentarily to hear and identify this odd and terrifying new sound, I was visibly shaken when one of the girls let out a blood-curtling screen and the two rushed past me arm-in-arm.  Apparently, the rat next to them in the bushes decided to give them a piece of his New York mind, and I heard the unsavory rodent's rendition of "go F* yourself."

Example 3:  Again on campus, again in the evening.  I was just thinking about how nice campus looks at night.  They have these old-style street lamps that look like floating orbs of light in a very mystical, the Illusionist, sort of way.  Lost as I was in this entraced ponderance, the odd twists and movement of the couples ahead and to my right went undetected.  As I stepped out in front of a hedge, I had the oddest sensation in my left foot, and looking down mid-stride saw a rat scampering away to my right.  Oblivious to my existence, it had scampered its way directly over my shoe and continued as if nothing had happened.  Now I'm not asking for general courtesy from a rat, no apologies expected for stepping on my foot, but I do expect a little more effort.  Our co-existence is highly predicated on the rat doing everything in its power to stay out of my way and my sight.  If it had simply dodged to the left or right in its bolt, I could have continued quite oblivious.  Instead, I had a creepy, dirty feeling crawling up my leg for the next 5 minutes as I relived the sensation over and over again.  It's not that it was horribly traumatic, I'm no Indiana Jones and the rat was kind enough to stay out of my t-shirt, but then I wasn't crawling down into any old sewers either.  

So those are my Rat Tails (forgive me), and life goes on in the NYC.

Halloween and the even crazier election on the horizon, so stay tuned as more is clearly on the way.

And watch where you step.

Weber

::(lame) Texpatriot