Attack of the Bathtub Jellyfish 11/08/2007
 notice the jellyfish just in time. My bare foot has just cleared the side of the bathtub when I spot a small bluish something floating in the shallow current the shower spray has created.It takes a moment to comprehend what I've seen. What is it doing in a Chicago apartment? Are there jellyfish in Lake Michigan? Even if there were, the lake is near freezing right now. Jellyfish surely cannot survive such temperatures. The only time I've seen one was in Boston Harbor; even that surprised me. My experience with these animals otherwise has been confined to sitcom “the gang goes on a beach vacation” episodes. Nevertheless, there is a tiny jellyfish floating in my bathtub. What to do with it? I can't touch it with bare hands, of course. Maybe a Tupperware container, then the Dumpster. But should I tell someone, the animal authority types? Should Chicagoans be warned that there is a potentially rampant jellyfish problem in the city? I mean, if it can happen in Lincoln Park, it can happen anywhere. Will people think it's strange that I shower at 11:30 at night? Another one. Suddenly another tiny creature has emerged from the drain. I definitely need to tell someone about this. I shouldn't be naked right now. Skin exposure is not smart when surrounded by jellyfish. Thirty seconds later, fully clothed and on my knees next to the tub, I call the best person I can think of to assist with a bizarre situation. “Russ, you are not going to believe this,” I tell him. “Oh God, are you drunk?” he asks. “No, not tonight. Russ, there are two jellyfish in my tub. What do I do?” “There are no jellyfish in your tub, you idiot,” he says, laughing that this-is-so-amusing-I'm-pretending-I-can't-breathe chortle that I sometimes love but usually hate. “Maybe you should clean your goddamn bathroom; I know you haven't done it in a month.” “True, but this is not soap scum; these are honest-to-goodness baby jellyfish. In my tub. In the city. Who do you contact about this sort of thing?” “Oh hell, I don't know. Just flush them down the drain. “Did I tell you what happened when I was stalking the hot bartender last night?” Oh hell, I should have known he'd be useless. “Totally ended up at Berlin getting a BJ on the dance floor from his friend.” Click. Why do I ever call him? He's never helpful. I must remember he's only good for two things – drinking and, well, drinking. One thing. Jellyfish. Nearing midnight with two jellyfish in my apartment. Here's what I'm going to do. Trap them in Gladware with enough water to survive, then call animal control in the morning. Probably should call my landlord as well. And maybe PETA. And my alderman (woman? No idea). This is an abomination that the fair people of Chicago should be aware of. Forget the ridiculous ban on foie gras, there are jellyfish loose in the city. Must not mention idiocy of foie gras ban to PETA. OK, corralling baby jellyfish into a square plastic container is not as difficult as I had imagined. The blue lid is firmly locked on the container, and I am much calmer. I peer at them through the transparent plastic. They're actually quite beautiful and fragile, floating around each other near the “Glad” label. Maybe I should have taken photos while they were still in the tub; this does sound a tad crazy. Too late now; I'm not letting these beasts out of their makeshift aquarium. I take my shower with the drain stopper firmly in place, ankle-deep soapy water be damned. The moment of truth, when I pull the plug expecting a drove of jellyfish (gaggle? horde? What on earth do you call a bunch of jellyfish?) to fill the tub, is anticlimactic. Just the counterclockwise swirl of drain water and then nothing. CommentsLaura Brown Mon, 26 Nov 2007 14:41:05 You know, it's always a good idea to keep a drinking buddy around when there's jellyfish involved - someone to pee on you should you get stung. Ethan Galster Mon, 26 Nov 2007 21:15:00 I've experienced the same thing a few times while taking a shower. However, after panicking and draining the bathtub, all I ever find is a thick layer of filmy soap scum. Maybe it's time to clean my tub? Leave a Reply |  Corinne BilyeuCorinne Bilyeu has been prolonging her adolescence for the last five(ish) years. She still has no idea what she wants to do with her life, but she figures she can cut down on watching her beloved Frasier reruns to write some jackass stories. Corinne was an honors English and journalism student at a state university (does it really matter which one?). After conquering Shakespeare, Blake, Pynchon, and the inverted pyramid, she shifted seamlessly into editing obituaries at a small-town newspaper. As fulfilling as that was, she left the high-stakes world of newspaper copy editing for the even higher-stakes world of editing for a litigation consulting firm (i.e., became a complete sellout). Corinne resides in Chicago, Illinois, and can generally be found loudly conversing with strangers at a local dive bar. ______________________ corinnebilyeu@ ______________________ ArchivesFebruary 2008 ______________________  |
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