Not Now, Not Ever

Not Now, Not Ever

Sunday, May 17, 2015

If I Occasionally Foam At The Mouth It's OK, I've Had My Shots

It's true, I have and here's the proof.




I found them while I was throwing out some of the crap I have been packing around for 25 years or more.


Many moons ago I went fishing in one of the local lakes in one of those cheapie inflatable rafts for a whole day by myself.

I took some lunch, a cooler full of beer, a bottle of whiskey and a tackle box.
It all fit in that little two man raft perfectly.


I rowed that little sucker way the hell from where I launched it and just sat there drinking and casting a spinner,letting the little breeze push me around the lake all damn day and well past dusk.
As a matter of fact, it got fucking dark. I was lit up good though and dreading the long row back to the beach.

I figured I'd throw the spinner out a couple more times then suck it up and start the long pull back.
I was just going to give it up when I cast out and started to reel back and it felt like I had something.
In all seriousness, I hadn't had a bite all day but actually catching fish was secondary to my plans anyways.

It was so dark out in the middle of that lake that I couldn't even see the end of my pole and of course I was too stupid to bring a flashlight.
I reeled and reeled and when I thought I must be getting close to the end of the line, I put my left hand out, grabbed the line and then pulled the pole way up straight with the other, bringing the line to me at the same time.

All of a sudden I felt something warm and fuzzy when I was expecting something cold wet and slimy.

Before I could comprehend just what in the hell I had on, the little warm fuzzy thing fucking bit me!!

It didn't actually break the skin but by then I was about shitting my pants trying to see what the hell I had on my line and get the damn thing into the raft so I could trap it, whatever the fuck it was. I was flailing around kicking empty beer cans and falling over the cooler while trying to stay somewhat away from whatever it was and not fall into the fucking lake at the same time.

I finally dug my lighter out of my pocket and "Flicked my Bic" so I could see what the fuck was going on, half fucking drunk on my ass in a tiny little raft out in the middle of a very dark lake with no flashlight,no life jacket on and with something that had very sharp teeth and didn't like me at that particular moment. ( I know, I know, no life jacket. I have told you I was a bit crazy, no?)

It was a little bat and it was all wrapped up in my line so it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

I had been casting a small spinner bait and the little dude must have thought it was big juicy bug so it went after it and caught it in mid cast.
It wasn't even wet! To this day I remember that little fact and still have no explanation for it because when I finally got it in the boat, it was wrapped two or three times around with line.

let me tell you, visions of foam dripping out of my mouth and howling at the moon went whizzing through my head and I flat fucking hauled ass getting that raft back to the beach a quarter mile away!

I was winded like a motherfucker by the time I got back but the adrenaline was flowing freely because of the fear coursing through me . That was a long row with plenty of time for my imagination to run wild, let me tell ya.
Normally it would have taken me a good half an hour to get all my shit out of the raft and everything stowed away in the back of my truck.
Not that night.

I picked that fucking raft up with the cooler,oars, tackle box ,fishing pole, and that fucking bat all at once and heaved it clear over the tailgate.

I checked real quick that the bat was still there and then hauled ass back to the bar across the street from my house to call the emergency room.
This was when cell phones were still a bit of a luxury item.

Notice my priorities back then?


When I jumped out of my truck I ran to the back to see if the bat was still there because I was in such a rush I didn't think to secure the little fucker better.

Oh, Hell No.

Long gone somewhere between the lake and the bar ten minutes away, it must have chewed through the fishing line.

Fuck me.

Got a beer ordered and called the emergency room to tell them what happened. They told me to get my ass in there ASAP and bring the bat if I have it so they could give me the first in a series of shots and test the bat.

Umm, about that, I says......

I'm sure you remember the horror stories of old where they had to give Rabies shots into your stomach?
I did and my balls were suddenly hiding in a place that you would think would be physically impossible.

When I finally get there, they assure me that they don't do that anymore but they want to know who is going to pay for this shot and have you been drinking?

Ahhh, yeah.
A friend dropped me off I says.


This was 1992 or abouts and they then informed me that the one shot cost $750!!!


Fuck me, I ain't got that kind of money.

I dug in my wallet and got the 800 number for my insurance and promptly got a hold of someone as clueless as I was and who didn't have any idea if they covered Rabies shots or not. I suppose it's not something they run into every day anyway and by now it is ten at night so there wasn't anyone around who would know.

I finally told the nurse that I would pay it if they billed me and that mollified the wench enough so off I go to get a nice big shot of Rabies Anti Toxin right in my ass cheek. It wasn't a little bottle like those in the picture either, that fucker was a big as a shot glass and the syringe had a God Damn harpoon on the end of it!


I was then informed that this incident had to be reported to the County and that I was to report to the Public Heath Extension within a week for the next round or very bad things would happen.

One shot a week, for six weeks.

Thankfully the County paid for it but I had to show up on time every week for six weeks to get my shots.They were pretty serious about it too. That's where I got the little bottles from.

My insurance wound up paying half the first one two months later but the hospital made me pay for it all at once, a weeks pay plus some vacation pay thrown it to make it all.

I was a fucked duck for a couple of weeks after that.

For the next entire year the cocksuckers at work called me Batman after I told them what happened.

So now you know, I have had my shots.

I still get this urge to howl at the Full Moon once in a while though.
Nothing to worry about I'm sure......

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