Everyone knows that New York is infested with disgusting rats. But does everyone know how goshdarn cute they are?
The rat infestation of a West Village KFC slash Taco Bell made national headlines last week, and rightly so. First of all, the freakish conjoining of any two fast food restaurants is a cardio-horror best foregone by all. Then the footage of people (probably tourists) peering in through the darkened windows at scores of rats – rats darting out from under frying vats, rats playing on empty tables, rats congregating near the condiments bar – and the nation lost its collective cookies.
But for me, watching the endless scenes of community rat life in the shut-down restaurant has been an experience rife with mixed feelings. Feelings like “Jesus, that’s the most vile thing I’ve ever seen,” and “Oh, look- cute little rat babies!” “Jesus, I’m never eating anything I didn’t prepare myself again,” and “Lookit how they play! Aw, that one’s nibbling something with his fat wittle cheeks.”
I’m reminded of the classic Koala infestation joke by the late Mitch Hedberg. But I’m also reminded of the more extreme cases of cat women, which I’d rather not turn into.