Captain’s Log 4,480
Yesterday was weird.
I walked into the museum only to be greeted with this exclamation.
“There is a large wild animal loose in the building!”
Well, nobody likes to hear that. The latest wild animal inside the building was the very unfriendly peacock, so I was not looking forward to dealing with anything else. I was immediately shown the “evidence.” Nice oblong turds on the stairs. Being somewhat of an expert in dealing with certainly species of rodentia (neener), I knew we were looking at rat shit.
This isn’t the first time we have had rats. I think they are gaining access through the large hole in the wall that the bee guy made several weeks ago. The city still hasn’t fixed the hole. It’s perfect for rats to enter OR for bees to return. So I emailed AGAIN and asked when we might expect to have that fixed. I kindly offered to send over our bill for the exterminator.
Our exterminator is a nice guy. His name is Patrick. He likes to talk about Jesus and his mom’s peach cobbler. The problem with rats is they don’t leave nicely. You cannot reason with them. Once they move in, they take over. Playing hardball is the only option. I told Patrick that he could not, under any circumstances, use glue traps. He understood.
Shortly after that, I almost fell out of my chair when a flock of parrots landed in the trees behind the museum. Feral parrots have been around southern California for years. They usually limit themselves to certain neighborhoods, but yesterday was an exception. I am guessing there were about 30-40 in the trees. They stayed for almost 30 minutes, chattering up a huge storm about their bird issues.
San Francisco has its own legendary parrots of Telegraph Hill. It’s amazing how they have adapted to life here. They are magnificent and VERY VERY LOUD!!!!
About an hour after the parrots left, one of the guys who works in the store came and pointed out someone sleeping at the edge of our private parking area. He said the guy had been there when he arrived. Three hours later, the guy was still there. The more I looked, the more I realized that the guy had been there the day before when I left for home around 5:30. Holy mommacita! That’s a very long time to be lying on the edge of a parking lot.
The facilities manager offered to go out there and see if the guy was dead. He had been there for over 21 hours at that point, so there was a good possibility he could have been dead. While we watched from a safe distance, he walked out there very carefully and kept a good distance. He couldn’t tell if the guy was breathing or not, so he yelled loudly and asked the guy if he was okay.
One dirty thumb emerged from the filthy blankets and gave him a high-sign. He wasn’t dead. Thank goodness. That would have really complicated the day. He was still there at 5:30 when everyone left. If he is still there this morning, I am calling the police. The usual response time in the park is at least 2 hours unless we say something like……We think he is dead. Then they might come in an hour. If the guy is still there, it’s bound to be an interesting morning.
And people think running a museum is glamorous? Surely you jest! Rat shit, feral parrots, and a possible dead guy in the back yard. All before lunch time. Then we had the usual problem of patrons walking through a restricted door to wander around the loading area. That happens at least twice a day. We have to leave the door unlocked for fire code, but it certainly creates issues with brainless people who see a door and think they can just go through. Even when it says AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. They must be the authorized personnel we didn’t know about. When you ask them what they are doing, they look innocent as can be and say, “I didn’t see any sign.” How damn big must signs be before people read them? The problem is that people don’t read OR listen to voicemail greetings. You can say you will be gone for an entire month, and people still leave a message. And call back the next day and leave another one.
I can be clueless too – but never about restricted areas. I am never clueless about possible dead guys in the back yard either. And trust me, if I had been patrolling the park on Saturday night, I would have seen 2,000 scantily-clad people with water cannons splashing around in the lily pond. I am observant like that. I would have said, “Is that a mirage or do I see 2,000 scantily-clad people with water cannons splashing around in the lily pond?” Since it’s really hard to see mirages at night because that old mirage-causing sun isn’t around, I would DEDUCE that there might be trouble brewing with those folks.
I am meeting a friend for lunch today. Rare occasion. I am begging to be taken off campus. It is really not much of a thrill to eat in the park. I practically live in the park (with rat shit, parrots, and possible dead guys). Getting away for lunch is a real treat. And endless glass of iced tea awaits!