It Truly is a Small World.

We were in a bar the other night that served tator tots. They didn't give it a cute or trendy name (like sometimes you'll see some kind of Pub Crisps or whatever on a menu and then you're all, "Oh, fries."); it was just tator tots, which I appreciate. Katie ordered some, and when one rolled off her plate into a little puddle of beer sweat, I grabbed it, cause I had secretly been waiting for something to feed to the rat.

Oh, there was a rat. I forgot that part. It was huge, like however big your biggest friend was when you were a kid.

We're out in the beer garden, and this rat is shuffling along the far wall, you know, just making his rounds, and we all discussed him, but no one messed with him much, not like he was dangerous, but more like he was the janitor emptying the trash in your cubicle. You say hello the first time, but when he comes back with that fresh trashbag, you feel awkward because there's not more small talk, and you are not gonna talk about trash, but for some reason you can't muster Hell's Kitchen talk or Rock Star talk because you secretly think all he knows anything about is trash, because you're a horrible snob.

So mainly we left the rat alone, and he left through a hole in the fence.

But Will had his camera, and so we all became kids with magnifying glasses and ants. Only with rats. And tator tots. I put the tator tot on the ground, between the hole and the camera, and we waited. After about two minutes, his hands (they have hands like racoons, or as Will said later, the devil.) reached out for the tot and pulled it through the hole.

There are a few apartments nearby, and at least one other bar with outdoor seating. If you were out on a deck that night, or in another beer garden, and wondered why you heard grown men screaming, well now you know.

He stayed just outside the fence the rest of the night. If you got down to his level, you could look him right in the eye. And he'd look back, and then you'd scream again. Add tots, repeat.

Oh, and the craziest part? The bartender knew a friend of mine. Man, what a small world.