Obviously I think very highly of Kanibal Home. However, it seems Jersey City's woodland creatures do too.
A few days ago my friend and neighbor (cough, stalker) Beth popped by the shop to chat. I was showing her the new skull-themed book that came into the store when I caught her looking behind me, wide-eyed.
ME (oblivious): The book's awesome, right?!
*Silence and staring*
BETH: Dude, there's a squirrel behind you.
And I couldn't even believe it, but there was a squirrel just chilling in the dressing room. Looking at us like it was thinking, Yea that book is pretty awesome.
Being the incredibly resourceful shop owner that I am, I immediately took action.
Which means I grabbed my camera and started laughing hysterically.
You can see the terror on Beth's face as she hides behind the table. And look at that little rascal perched on the mirror like he/she is reclining on a chaise lounge. Ridiculous. If Beth wasn't in the shop I would have been milling about behind the front desk and never would have seen this freeloader.
Here's another picture (I was laughing so hard I couldn't focus the camera):
Well that was fun for about five minutes. And then, as customers started shopping in the store, we realized the squirrel couldn't stay in the dressing room forever. Bummer.
ME: Beth, how are you going to get the squirrel out?
BETH: Oh hells no. I'm leaving.
ME: No you're not!
So a plan formed. It might not have been the best -- and we might have screamed at one point when the squirrel went all Girl Interrupted on us for a minute -- but eventually he/she politely exited the shop via this awesome barricade we shoddily constructed:
OK, so you may be thinking: Squirrels climb power lines. What makes you think it would follow a low-lying path made out of vintage trunks and wire baskets? Well the answer to that question is that we weren't thinking. After calling Animal Control for tips (they were closed) and asking the non-emergency Jersey City Police line for assistance (they laughed at us) we had to figure out how to get the party crasher out in the least stressful manner (Beth was freaking out). So armed with two brooms, we stood behind the "barricade" and ushered our furry friend out. Honestly, Beth did most of the work. I was still laughing. As I grabbed for my camera again she shouted, "This is NOT a time for blogging!" Fine, fine.
The squirrel ran out of the store, looked back once and then jetted across traffic on Montgomery Street. We both screamed in earnest this time. He/she made it across safely, though, and some guy smoking a cigarette across the street looked at us like we were lunatics as we jumped up and down in front of the shop, high-fiving with the brooms held high in the air.
I never said I didn't have fun at work.