Close Encounters with the Striped Kind

Well, if anyone was wondering what Pepe Le Pew was up to these days, I can give you an update: He enjoys waddling around the backyard area of my apartment building.

Last night I was walking home from work at my usual time. I turned the corner to enter the rear area of my apartment building. When I arrived in the "yard" area (by which I mean "square of dead grass surrounded by concrete), I glanced left and saw him.

A skunk was coming out of the entryway to my building's "courtyard" (by which I mean "open area in between the apartment buildings that's covered completely in concrete and offers no redeemable value for visiting").

We both froze. He was about 10 feet from me, backlit enough from the courtyard lights to look imposing, but also frontlit enough for me to quickly think "Aw, look at that cute skunk."

The imposing part (and REALITY) promptly took over when his tail quickly stood straight up. I was standing between him and the only exit from our backyard area.

Well crap, I thought.

Okay. It was more of a "OH SH*T!" response in my head.

Looking back on my decision makes me wonder (along with everyone to whom I've spun this yarn in the last 24 hours) why I didn't just turn around to exit the same way I came in? I could've just used the front door and let the little guy exit on his own.

Naaaaaah. My eyes went straight the door of my building. The skunk, the door, and me formed a perfect triangle. I just wanted to get in, he just wanted to get out -- I could accommodate that request.

I walked backwards to the wall behind me, moved along the perimeter of the backyard away from the skunk. I should have been humming the Mission Impossible theme. Had anyone been watching it from the windows of the apartments above our backyard, it would have looked very silly.

So me, the covert spy, finally made it to the bush by the backdoor. And she stood there behind it, hiding. There's no way I could have opened the door without freaking Pepe out. So I waited. And Pepe took his sweet time, but he finally made his exit, tail down, on to his next conquest.

I think had Pepe and I been in the woods somewhere, I would have lost that battle no matter what. He saw me, I was bigger and more threatening (that's the only time I'll ever be considered that in life), and therefore I'm the loser.

Although my loving wife told me later that night, while basking in the joy of not coming home to a stink-covered partner, that skunks apparently have bad eyesight. So once I backed off, he probably just lost track of me and decided to chill out and move on.

But I also think because Pepe is a city skunk, he's probably used to seeing people, which therefore helped me from becoming Stinky McPete who bathes in tomato juice.

So I would like to take this moment to send a shout-out of thanks to Pepe. I appreciate that you gave me a chance to remove myself from the situation before doing anything harsh.