So, THIS happened!
Jessie and I went to Canadian Tire today to do some long awaited stuff shopping for yard thinks and such. We also needed to buy a new lawnmower as the landlord had promised a new one in the lease. We decided to go to the new Canadian Tire at 7th and Cambie since the road work is pretty much done down there and you can finally get around a bit. We parked in the rooftop parking area and walked in to the store. I will admit we were pretty stupefied by all the shiny lawn furniture and assorted yard accessories. When we first walked in we saw some really nice fire pits for the yard and we kind of fantasized about how cool it would be to have one. When we got to the place that they were stacked on the shelf it looked like they might be on sale. I grabbed the big box and stuck the UPC code under one of those price check thingies and sure enough it was half price. The regular price was $99 and it was on for $49.99! Well shoot, I'd buy it.
We piled all our purchases into a couple of buggies and eventually went to check out. They have a self serve check which involved several episodes of a clerk coming over to help us continue, much lifting boxes and finding codes and other pain in the ass stuff until finally we were checked through.
We piled the stuff into the car, swung through the Wendy's drive through and headed on home. Once we got back to the yard we decided to sit in the sun and eat our lunch and then unpack all of the goodies from the car. When I grabbed the box for the outdoor fire pit (some assembly required) I noticed there was a hole in the back of the box. I took one look and recognised it right away. Only one thing makes a hole like that. Rodents.
After I started to cut the box open we could really see all of the damage, tons of chewed up styrofoam and shredded paper and plastic and to our relief, small droppings from a mouse, not a rat. We started picking the pieces of the fire pit out of the box when it happened. Mouse running around in box! I screamed like a little girl and ran the opposite way and the mouse started running towards Jessie who was kind of frozen in place but no less freaked out than me. The mouse headed straight for the stairwell towards Jessie's apartment door, luckily it was closed or it would have run straight in. So now we are just shitting ourselves trying to think of what to do.
By this time Superman had come out to see what was going on and while him and Jessie made some sort of plan I decided to call Canadian Tire and see what they had to say. The first guy I spoke to in the outdoor living department responded by saying "Holy Shit, no way! He suggested I bring it back for a refund but I told him I wasn't touching any of it, it was full of mouse shit and urine, you could see it on everything. I asked to speak to the manager and when I told him what happened he said, "Jesus Christ!" He suggested I call pest control they would be happy to pay for it. By this time I could tell the the mouse wasn't going anywhere and had wedged itself between two layers of rugs. I told him that it looked like we would be able to catch/kill it and we wouldn't need pest control so he told me to bring in the receipt and he would give me a full refund but I could keep the fireplace. So, free fireplace, that's cool.
Superman conducted some rather gruesome maneuvers involving his big Dayton boots and a garden hoe which resulted in the death by squishing for Mr. Mouse. I hid behind Jessie the whole time prancing in place like a prized pony.
This is a picture of the box with all the nest materials and delicious styrofoam, mouse shit and mouse pee. Gross.
styro feces and pee pee that was left in the box.
Bottom line, Jessie and I were traumatized for a couple of hours and now we have no faith in our ability to handle any type of stress or excitement ever again. That mouse was in the box when I lifted it in the store put it through the checkout and rode home with us in the car. I'm not scared of spiders and insects but rodents do me in.
Tomorrow it's back to Canadian Tire for our refund and possibly a dry cleaning bill because Jessie may or may not have peed her pants a little.
Now excuse me while I go wash my hands again and try to recover from the adrenalin rush I just experienced.
I wonder if I should sue?