In a former life, in the faraway land of not my current location-- I worked at a theme park whose name sounded like Paul Whitney Earth.

I worked in restaurants and custodial while there, so I always enjoyed picking up shifts covering the evening parades in other locations on my days off.

One evening, I was on the main drag of that location’s parades making sure the patrons were keeping the walkway clear as they found their prime viewing spots.

As I am meandering up and down the road, I find a boomer standing in the middle of the walkway. I put my biggest, bestest, smile on and proceeded with my rodent-approved monologue, asking the boomer if they could please find another location either further up or further down the main drag to safely view the parade… they huffed off and I expected that to be the end of it.

Ten minutes later, as I’m whistling while I work and having a zipidee doo dah day, I run into this villain again-- this time, hiding in a doorway.

While rodents can quickly escape doorways in the event of a fire… humans cannot.

I needed this boomer to move,

I needed them to move NOW,

and I needed to stress the importance of this in as happy a tone as possible… lest the big cheese snap his mousetrap on me.

So, I give it my go… somehow turning ‘if you stay here and we have a fire you are far more likely to die than the other tens of thousands of humans here NOT standing in a doorway,’ into the rootin-est tootin-est nicest vocal dress down in the west.

Mrs. Facilier proceeded to grab me by my bowtie and shirt, start screaming in my face that she wasn’t causing any problems, that there was nowhere else to stand, and that she was STAYING IN THIS DOORWAY MOUSE DAMMIT.

A lifetime and galaxy away… I wonder if she regrets having a lifetime trespass. Must suck not being able to take your grand ratdroppings to the Cheese Chalet, when it was seemingly so important to be there to begin with.