Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a ratcatcher in Trelleborg is like a rollercoaster ride, but without the safety bar. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the rats. Ugh, those little furballs.
First stop, I hit up the streets of Trelleborg. You know, the ones like Storgatan and Östergatan. They’re like the main veins of this town. I swear, if I see one more rat scurryin’ across the road, I’m gonna lose it. I mean, c’mon! It’s like they own the place.
So, I’m cruisin’ down the street, and I spot this massive rat. I mean, this thing was the size of a small dog! I’m thinkin’, “Is that a rat or a furry gremlin?” I chase it down, and it darts into a café on the corner of Stortorget. I follow it in, and the barista looks at me like I’m nuts. I’m like, “Hey, I’m just here for the rat, not the coffee!”
But then, surprise surprise, the rat jumps onto a table and knocks over a cup of coffee. The whole place goes silent. I’m standin’ there, mortified. Everyone’s lookin’ at me like I’m the rat whisperer or somethin’. I just shrug and say, “Hey, it’s a rat-eat-coffee world out here!”
After that little fiasco, I head over to the harbor. Trelleborg’s got this beautiful waterfront, right? But guess what? More rats! I swear, they’re like, “Oh, look, a ratcatcher! Let’s throw a party!” I’m chasin’ them down by the docks, and I trip over a fishing net. I’m on the ground, and I’m like, “Great, just great. This is how I go out—tripped by a net.”
But then, I see this kid, maybe 10 years old, laughin’ his head off at me. I can’t help but laugh too. I mean, it’s kinda funny, right? So, I get up, dust myself off, and give the kid a wink. “You wanna be a ratcatcher when you grow up?” He just shakes his head, like, “Nah, I’m good.” Smart kid.
Later, I’m back on the streets, and I run into this old lady on Södra Långgatan. She’s got a broom, and she’s tryin’ to shoo away a rat. I’m like, “Lady, you need a trap, not a broom!” She looks at me, all serious, and says, “I’ve been doin’ this for years, young man.” I’m thinkin’, “Wow, a rat-fighting grandma. Respect!”
By the time I hit the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I’ve caught a few, lost a few, and made a scene at a café. But you know what? Trelleborg’s got this charm. The cobblestone streets, the old buildings, the smell of the sea. It’s home, even with all the rats.
As I’m walkin’ back, I can’t help but smile. Sure, it’s a crazy job, but it’s mine. And tomorrow? Who knows what Trelleborg will throw at me next. Maybe a rat in a top hat? I wouldn’t be surprised!