A couple years ago, there was an incident that took place in the school computer lab that Susan wrote about in her previous blog (now re-posted here). Basically, a bat flew inside the computer lab one evening while she was working overtime, causing a great ruckus.
Last week, the story repeated itself again. It always has to do with the weather and how warm the computer lab gets when cost-saving measures keep the air conditioning turned off. But this time, it wasn’t a bat. It was 8:55 in the morning, just 5 minutes before Susan’s first class of the day. All the windows were wide open to fan out the lab from overheated computer CPUs. The sound of birds chirping in dissonance with sounds coming from ten different classrooms, it was like listening to a broken FM radio. Then she heard something different. She heard the sound of fluttering and chirping coming closer and closer, and WHOOSH, in flew a bird. The moment it flew into the lab, the gaiety of the happily singing bird immediately turned into something of a different nature, like one who’s demon-possessed. The sweet sound of chirping turned into drum-breaking shriek, wings fluttering madly about, spewing tiny feathers all over the place, not to mention pooping while at it with perfect aim on the monitors and desks. Then, in a totally discombobulated fashion, flew aimlessly around the computer lab toward what it might have thought was window to freedom but failed miserably. From one side to the other, the bird smacked itself silly several times before it temporarily perched on the metal bars covering the lights to rest (and still pooping with flawless aim). And it was thought that only Jack Baur had flawless aim.
So while all this was taking place, Susan was…. despite being several hundred times bigger in size…. hiding under the desk. At the rate of the bird’s pooping accuracy, the thought of being pooped on was more than she could bear. She hid under her desk and with one hand reaching out to the phone, she called the academic affairs office for help. “Help! Save me! I’m being attacked …..” and before she could finish the sentence, the bird (as if it was calculating the precise moment of its next attack), flew towards Susan and …. “AGGGHHHH” the phone fell off its socket and was disconnected. Appearing quite pleased, the bird flew back to its watch tower. It must have given up its chance of freedom but still determined to fight to the end.
Continuing to hide under the desk, it must have been forever (actually only 2 minutes) when help finally came. Al, the academic affairs director, gallantly rushed in the lab but was confused to find it empty until he heard the faint whisper coming from underneath the desk. “up there….” And just as he looked up, the bird did it again. With a quick swoop, it flew down towards Al, not forgetting to drop a few bombs along the path, but nothing scares Sir Albert the Brave. He faced the bird head on and with a faster swoop of his hand, caught the bird! Time froze for a split second as Al stood there with a possibly crushed bird inside his clenched fist and Susan watched in terror. GASP!
Al slowly unclenched his fist, opening one finger at a time and expecting to find bird gut all over his hand. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. The bird survived the grab! Al walked towards the window and let the bird towards its freedom, but not without leaving another souvenir.
It could have been worse. Imagine what it would have been like if the bird was still in the lab when 20 hyperactive children came in to class one minute later.
Leave a Reply