Captain’s Log: Day 3 Post-BotBall
Today was Pokémon Go Community Day, which was ironic seeing how upon entering my laundry room to find a pair of pants before going to spin some stops and catch Charmander I found a community of monsters going through my pockets.
“SCATTER” screamed a now all too familiar voice as no less than a dozen Raccoons popped their heads out from in and behind my washer, dryer, and clothes bin holding scissors apparently toiling away at cutting strips off my clothes and stuffing them into admittedly adorable appropriately sized burlap sacks. As they gathered the remains of my destroyed wardrobe and darted out of my apartment in a flash the only thing on my mind was, cute factor aside, clearly this Raccoon situation has been getting out of hand.
Unfortunately for me there was no time to call Animal Control as there were mon to be pocketed and I’ll be damned if I don’t have a community day where I get at least five times as many useless shinies as I could ever know what to do with.
Out the door I bounded and proceeded to wander the outskirts of Texas (Charter Township) over to the higher education facility right down the road where I knew there to be plenty of stops and gyms to stay stocked up on supplies, but I couldn’t help but feel as though I was being followed, and not by the hoards of incendiary lizards littering my phone screen popping up faster than they could be caught.
All was going well when I looked up from a successful capture and my eye caught a glimmer from a rooftop of the deserted Community College campus I chose to spend the majority of my time hunting. My eyes were watery from the cold, dry autumn air but wiping my vision clear what should I see but a Raccoon in a ghillie suit with a pair binoculars on the roof make some hand motions and dart its head down, out of sight. Despite the fact that their extremely ineffective and environmentally inappropriate camouflage was incredibly easy to see, it crossed my mind that perhaps I shouldn’t have evicted the hoards of glorified fuzzy rats prior to leaving the apartment as it now appears in a cruel twist of fate -I- was the one being hunted, perhaps out of revenge although who’s to say really.
Exiting the app I tried to dial any number I could find that had a chance of picking up but I hadn’t fully charged my S10 in my haste to get to work and as I was in the process of hitting dial my phone died before my very eyes. In the only act I could think to do with my sole lifeline gone I did an about face and increased stride trying to get back to the main road where at least I could be seen by the sparse cars that occasionally drove by. To my dismay I had ventured farther than I realized while caught up in the excitement of sparkly yellow lizards with flaming tails so there was a long way to go along the sidewalk next to the main building to even get close to salvation. Keeping my head down and my pace up I was bombarded with shrill chants of “Look at Bartolo Colón over hear trying to run, how cute” and “Cecil Fielder could do laps around you, punk. And that’s WITH Prince on his back”, “The only yard you’ll ever go is TO Scotland Yard when we frame you for murder, and you won’t even get to go home first so by rule it wont be put on the board, unless you included a WANTED board”, and “Gavin Lux is approximately infinitely faster than Tim Locastro you stupid fucking idiot”.
Not gonna lie, for as untrue and nonsensical as that last one was it still stung the most. Clearly they were going in for a kill shot so I had to hustle if I was to make it out with alive, much less my sanity, as they began throwing what I hope was just mud from the previous nights rain at me from their strategically elevated position.
Stepping inside my apartment and slamming the door out of breath I was greeted by a sight for sore eyes, my golem of an umpire I left standing guard over my dedicated pitching area (luckily situated right by the front door) still keeping watch.
“Don’t worry, I know what it is like to have absolutely nobody in the entire world ever like you ever and constantly assail you with insults”
”Thanks Mr. Hernandez”
The broom’s words were oddly reassuring and got my heart rate back down so feeling safe again I plugged in my phone and got to sorting through the day’s admittedly smaller than anticipated haul.
Several hundred transferred Charmander later I turned off my phone’s screen and let out a sigh of relief when out of the bathroom walks guess who using MY tooth brush.
“OH! You’re back, I thought you would, uh, at least be out until the event ended. Did something happen?”
Beyond the legitimate look of shock to see me and the insincere tone of his voice that lacked any quality hinting at concern for my safety the son of a bitch winked at me and, turning around, stepped back into the bathroom as I heard both the shower AND faucet turn on. He still isn’t out of there yet and considering the fact that hygiene has never been one of his concerns until today and I have heard the toilet flush about 13 or 14 times now I am not convinced he isn’t intentionally using up all the hot water just to spite me and run up the water bill. Even though water is included in rent I really need to actually call Animal Control in the morning.