I hate bats. I hate them with a fiery passion reserved only for Roseanne Barr's voice and pilot light stoves. I was reminded of how much I hate them tonight when I walked out of the building at work and around the corner and saw one flying around all crazy and skittery. My, what I'm now calling "Animal Tourette's" kicked in and I yelled "WOAH FUCKER" while probably looking like a certified crazy person backing away from what surely looked like nothing.
This isn't the first time I have freaked out because of the flying rats. I once spotted a bat out of the corner of my eye while playing tennis and proceeded to freak out. I threw my racket straight into the air while running to the car and locking myself in. I would not come out until it was time to leave. I also have taken off in a dead sprint while talking with my friends outside without a word to them about what was going on. That freaked them out but surprisingly, they are still friends with me. I can't control myself when I see a bat. I lose all sense of rationality. I suppose I should explain how my phobia began.
It all started when I was sweet and innocent in the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of high school. I had to have my jaw broken and wired shut for an agonizingly long (not for my family I'm sure) 8 and a half weeks. I was at my grandma's house for family dinner and afterwards a bunch of my cousins and some aunts decided that we'd go for a walk around the village. My grandma lived in a small village right on the lake where everyone knows everyone. It's really a nice peaceful place, but on that night the peace was broken by my horrified, muffled screams. See while we were all walking, enjoying the summer night and having a grand ole time, I ended up at the back of the pack. I was probably distracted by something shiny as is wont to happen. All of a sudden, out of the blue, something comes flying out of the night and directly onto my face. Keep in mind, that my jaw was firmly wired shut and I was pretty much unable to make coherent sentences as it was. I tried to swat it away which only angered the bat and it proceeded to get entangled in my hair. Finally I got it dislodged and it flew away no worse for wear from the encounter. I ran frantically to the group ahead screaming as best as I could without opening my mouth, tears were flowing down my cheeks and my family all stopped and tried to figure out what was wrong with me this time. I have a history of weird accidents, remind me to tell the story of me running myself over with a 4 wheeler sometime. When I was finally able to write down on my handy dandy little notepad that I carried for communication, what had happened, they all started laughing hysterically. Thanks a lot fam! Ever since that fateful day, I cannot even look at a bat on the TV without cringing and closing my eyes. Just the though of the little flying petri dishes makes me shiver with disgust. I learn as much as I can about them, (know your enemy!) and will gladly tell anyone who will listen about how horrible they are. Bats have become my mortal enemy due to a warm summer night many years ago.
So no, Batman is not my friend. Besides, I've always preferred Supergirl. She's got a fantastic first name!