Walking to his home in one of the more toney neighborhoods of our nation's capitol, Timothy discovered "a big, fat black rat - dead" on his doorstep.
This, of course, was more than P.T. could deal with. He contacted the building super, who was unavailable. Contacted the doorman, who was unwilling to assist. Contacted his housekeeper, who could not be bribed at any cost.
He went inside and donned his housekeeper's yellow rubber dishwashing gloves, put on a doctor's mask, and grabbed the rat in a pair of tongs. (He threw all of these items away immediately after the adventure.)
He crossed the street and dropped the dead rat in front of the building across the way, thinking the street cleaners would pick it up in a week or so. It was then, he reports, that a large black women came running up the hill.
"Oh no you didn't," she exclaimed, scaring the shit out of P.T. "You did not just drop that dead rat in front of my house. You take your dead ass rat and get it out of here."
"What could I do," offered P.T., "I was caught. She got her super, this snide little Asian fuck who usually loafs around half the day. He comes out and jumps my shit."
"You no can put rat here."
"I was just trying to move the problem off to someone else, they nailed me red-handed. I had to pick it up and walk it through my flat so I could put it in the dumpster behind my building. The whole thing was completely humiliating. I picked the wrong moment with the wrong person. It was not pretty. I got my ass handed to me, as they say. What are the odds? Glad you are laughing about it, Dorene. Go ahead, get all your giggles out."
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