Rest In Peace

The story I am about to tell is completely true and has in no way been fabricated for entertainment purposes.

It is well-known that London has a problem when it comes to mice - they are everywhere. I knew this when I moved here and I knew there had to be a few in my flat as it is an old, poorly built, insulated building. I had accepted this and just thought as long as I didn't have to see them, there wouldn't be a problem - out of sight, out of mind. But on the morning of March 8th, tragedy struck 42 Swaton Road, when a cheeky mouse decided to come out and play.

It was 6:15am on Wednesday morning when I woke up to the sound of something scampering across the wood floor. I laid in bed, paralyzed by the sound I had just heard. I knew exactly what was running across my floor and at 6:00 in the morning I knew I definitely did not want to deal with it. So I just made some noise - scaring it back to where it came from. I laid there, eyes closed and hoping it would stay away so that I could go back to sleep. Unfortunately, about 10 minutes later, I woke up to the same sound. So again, I made a bit of noise so that it would hide and I could go back to sleep. This went on until 7:00am when I decided enough was enough and I obviously wasn't going to get any more sleep, so I might as well get ready for work. I got out of bed, started walking towards my closet when in the corner of my eye I saw something small and grey pop out from behind my laundry bag.

I stood there for a second trying to decide what to do. I went with my first instinct - I grabbed my keys and dropped them on the floor, hoping the loud noise would scare it off. Nothing. So I grabbed an empty water bottle off my desk and lightly tossed it over in the direction of the mouse. It landed right next to its feet and still the mouse didn't budge. Two water bottles, five pairs of shoes, and a space saver bag full of clothes later and the mouse was still in the same spot, alternating between licking the floor and his hands. I stood there realizing I was going to have to wait it out, as it was obvious this cheeky little guy wasn't scared of me.

About five minutes later, the mouse decides to come out a little bit further into the room. It is at this time that I jump up on my desk chair and start thinking of an escape route. While concocting my plan, I noticed that it looked like the mouse was actually sitting down - as if he was at a dinner party with friends and enjoying a nice meal. After another minute or two, the mouse got back up on all fours and it was at that moment that I realized why the mouse was not scared of me... he was drunk.

Do you remember in old cartoons when they used to overly exaggerate drinking? Instead of being just a bit off balance, the cartoons would be weaving in and out, tripping over themselves and of course, hiccuping. Well I kid you not, this mouse was straight out of a Saturday morning cartoon. The mouse stands up and I can see him sway from left to right, zig zagging in and out of the obstacles I had previously left in his way from trying to scare him. Eventually he runs into the bottle of Prosecco I had opened up the night before and then drunkenly scurries off to the small space that is in between my bed frame and the wall. The next thing I hear is this mouse ricocheting off of the wall and the bed, eventually making his way back out where he falls down landing right next to the bottle of Prosecco. I wasn't sure if the mouse had passed out from his binge drinking or if he actually drank himself to death. I got off of my chair and walked a little closer to where the mouse was laying. I watched him and thought, "WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!"

Sadly, Peter the Prosecco loving mouse didn't make it. I am not good with mice - dead or alive. So I knocked on my flatmates door (who at this point we hadn't said more than 3 words to each other in the 6 months we lived together) and ask him if he would please remove the mouse. Him and his friend were nice enough to dispose of it for me. The other people that lived in the flat heard the commotion and came out to ask what was going on. It was in that moment that the five of us bonded over how much we hate our flat. Peter brought us all together. So although he may be gone, he will never be forgotten.