You Dirty Rat

I was walking down a Brooklyn block at 7pm on an ordinary Wednesday night. I was finally coming home from the office, exhausted and wearing my black trench, slacks and ballet flats. In my own little world, I start staring at my feet thinking that its a little brisk out and my feet aren't completely covered in the ballet flats, but they're cozy and dressy at the same time. Then I started thinking that I might stop by church to do a little how-do-you-do since I still had some time to before "Old Christine," started that evening.

Suddenly I saw what looked like a hairless teacup chihuahua from the corner of my eye. Jerked out of my day dream, I look up and realize that this is no dog but a hairless rat running in my direction. I tried not to panic, telling myself: I'm a human, its more scared of me and it will keep its distance."

But the bastard ran within inches of my foot! So I did what any sane City girl would do: I screamed bloody murder, leaped out of its way, doing an almost-olympic half-spin and slightly twisted my ankle.

Yes, I do believe this was an appropriate response. So what if people around me were laughing. So what if the kid behind me asked me, "miss are you ok?" I replied breathlessly, in relief: "Yes. It didn't get me."

I walked straight home - cautiously but swiftly.

How would you respond?