Saturday, February 16, 2013

Encounter with a Raccoon

Renting a U-Haul should be a fairly simple, normal procedure, right?!  Well, nothing is normal in my life.  While renting a U-Haul on Tuesday, I had the following conversation with the owner of the shop. By the way . . . I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut!

(Scene:  39 year-old female stands at counter filling out paperwork with her brother for U-Haul rental.  Owner of shop stands behind register, trying to concentrate on entering customer information.  Big-mouth female customer interrupts his work to start a conversation about the stuffed raccoon hanging on the wall.

Me (39 year-old female customer) :  Where did you get that stuffed raccoon?
Owner:  In the Wendy's dumpster.
Me:  What?!  Are you serious?  You just found it dead in the Wendy's dumpster and decided to stuff it?
Owner:  No.  It was a momma raccoon.  I watched it from the window all summer long.  It would get into the dumpster and feed her babies.
Me:  So, how did it die?
Owner:  I hit it over the head with a shovel.
Me (sharp intake of breath):  Seriously?!  But it's head doesn't look mashed in.
Owner:  I just gave it a light tap on the head.  I just knocked it unconscious. 
Me:  Well . . . how did it die then?
Owner (in a matter-of-fact voice):  I put it into a plastic bag and hooked the bag up to my car exhaust.
Me:  Wow.  That seems kind of brutal.
Owner:  Oh, no, it wasn't.  That coon had been leaving feces in my U-Haul all summer and chewed up a U-Haul seat in one of my trucks.
Me (thinking to myself):  I wonder if he's going to rent me the U-Haul filled with raccoon feces?
Me (out loud):  So, then you just stuffed it?
Owner:  I have a good friend that stuffed it.  I told him to make the coon look really nice and friendly, because Wilbur scares people. (He pointed his finger towards a nearby wall.)  That's Wilbur.
I glanced over at the wall and saw Wilbur.  Oh, my goodness.  Seriously?!
Me:  How did Wilbur die?  (I secretly wondered if he'd gone to a farm, hit sweet Wilbur on the head, bagged him and hooked him up to the exhaust as well.)
Owner:  I shot him with a bow and arrow.
Me:  I can see why children would be scared of Wilbur.
Owner (laughing):  Oh, yea.  He scares the kids.  (pause) By the way, I can get you a raccoon if you want one.
Me (thinking):  Oh, yes.  That is just what I need.  A friendly raccoon hanging from a tree limb on my wall at home in the kitchen.

Owner (as we were getting ready to leave):  Here is a keychain with a tag on it to our tune-up shop and a second tag for Wendy's to get a free Frosty.  We've partnered up with Wendy's for free treats.
Me (thinking):  I bet you have.  Kill the coons in the Wendy's garbage cans=free Frosty.

My life is stranger than fiction!
P.S.  The owner is currently getting vinyl lettering made to put under the stuffed raccoon.  Her name is "Ricky".

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