So last night I was driving home from yet another date. (Side note, apparently I've decided to date the whole of Los Angeles in a single week. Just know some are good, some are bad and some are so very bad that afterwards I pray for humanity. Still thinking if I do write about them I will only write about the bad ones. But yes, there have been some truly awesome ones.)
I was on the phone with Liz doing the typical post date disection/discussion. As I was turning into my driveway I saw what I thought was a cat and stomped on the brakes.
'That's a funny looking cat!'
'Well, it's low to the ground... and has a pointed face... and doesn't look like a cat.'
And that's when I pieced together it was not a cat but a really giant fucking possum. A POSSUM. IN A VERY URBAN AREA OF LOS ANGELES. Dudes, I have lived some places. I have lived in places that could be considered 'country'. But Los Angeles? NOT COUNTRY.
But, apparently we have possums just walking around all willy nilly. I honestly had to go upstairs and google possum and look at pictures to make sure that's what it was. (It was). The best part however was my mild freakout when I started screaming into the phone about how the giant possum was going to attack and eat me. Liz had to calm my panicking, not country ass down and explain that unless I charge it with a stick or back it into a corner the possum would more than likely leave me alone. This however did not stop me from running, full speed into the house terrified I would turn to see it chasing after me.
I would say and this is why I should never leave big cities, but apparently even those aren't safe anymore.