Am I a Vampire?
Day 12: The bats still haven’t realized I’m human.
Day 26: I think they have accepted me as one of their own.
Nope, one just flew directly into my face.
Day 30: I’m trying to regain the trust of the bats by making them their daily diet consisting of bat mix, two equally spaced rows of peeled bananas, and three fistfulls, give or take, of chopped red apples to top it off. All of which will be devoured in point three fifths of a second by all my furry bat friends.
Day 32: I just finished setting the diets in the cave, I hit my head on a stalactite, and then proceeded to trip over a stalagmite almost skewering myself like one of the three large hanging ropes of cantaloupe, honeydew, and watermelon that the bats absolutely love.
Day 39: C.J. the zookeeper taught me how to use the siphon to drain out the extra guano to insure maximum sparkle in the bat cave’s draining pools.
Day 40: Michelle the head honcho in charge of the bats gifted me with a compliment on how well I cleaned the cave, and Mark, my boss, proceeded to tell me, “ You know she never gives compliments.”… Does this mean I could be a professional bat poop cleaner?
Day 44: I was cleaning the cave when a mother bat dropped her baby, conveniently right into the puddle of water below. Thinking the poor helpless creature had suffered too great of a fall I gently reached down to collect the neonate. Death is a part of the cave’s natural order of life and I’ll often find up to six dead bats on any given day working in the bat cave, usually babies who have not yet learned to fly. When I examined the little guy I noticed him squirming around in my hand, so I did what any good surrogate mother would do- Idried it off with my shirt making sure to spread its thin delicate wings dabbing them completely dry, and then putting my pinky finger in its miniscule mouth allowing for maximum oxygen intake and patting it on the back to dispel any extra fluids. Then grabbing it by its miniature skeletor feetI hung it “rightside down” on the little patch of burlap sack on the top of the cave for its mother to come collect it. I gave myself a figurative gold star for the day.
Day 51: I only heard the joke “that’s a funny looking animal” and “Look here’s the teenager exhibit” about twenty times today, and also found only two dead bats. That calls for a celebration in my book!
Day 55: Mark congratulates me on mastering the bat cave, and I get to move into the temple working with a multitude of both harmless and venomous snakes from around the world. I couldn’t be more excited!
Day 57: I was told to collect 35 large crickets from the bin in the back hallway. How does Mark know my one weakness? Not to disappoint my boss, I go ahead and stick my hand in the tub filled with thousands of the jumping nightmares, when I pulled my hand out I was expecting to see stark white bone staring back at me, but au contraire – my hand was miraculously still intact.
Day 60: Grasshoppers are still on my list of those-who-must-not-be-named.
Day 62: I am once again reunited with my 400+ low flying, half blind, nocturnal, fruit devouring, furry aerial mammals. Even though one might classify it as impossible or downright insane to be completely comfortable and eerily calm in such a hectic place as a bat cave, I think I rock the mystery pretty well.
Bats + dark caves + human being = vampire.
Yeah, that’s got to be it.