Philly Rats Just Aren’t as Ambitious as New York’s and D.C.’s

This is Oliver. Adventurer. Crypto enthusiast. Father of 33.

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Every Philadelphian’s Got a Rat Story. Here’s Mine.

Years ago, I moved into a second story apartment a block off the Italian Market and instantly learned the place had a rodent problem. There were noises and poops and signs of disturbance all over the kitchen. I was hoping it was a poltergeist, but they don’t poop.

So I built myself a little homemade humane trap on the stove. It was supposed to work like this: Mouse goes into the cardboard tube in search of peanut butter. The tube is only halfway on the stove. When the mouse reaches the end, both it and the tube fall into a bucket. Later I take the trashcan to some park far away and set it free to haunt some other house far away, like real live saint.

Then one day I heard some rustling and turned to see what you, dear reader have already guessed. This was no mouse. Yep. Big ass rat. Size of a squirrel, too. Just sitting on the stove. Wider than the cardboard tube. We locked eyes for a second before he noisily disappeared into the walls.

It was a real “We’re gonna need a bigger boat” situation.

After that, I decided it was his apartment more than mine and I would move out as soon as the lease was up. It was a terrible apartment. He could have it. We mostly stayed out of each other’s way for the rest of the year.

That was 25-something years ago. That rat’s dead and so are his great-great-great-great-grandchildren.

And these days, this city must be doing something right when it comes to rats. According to a long entertaining story in the Inquirer, Philadelphians don’t complain about rats as frequently as residents of New York, D.C., and Baltimore do.

What’s the deal? Are we better at killing them? Or are we tired of complaining about them? I didn’t even know we were supposed to call somebody when we see a rat.

Maybe I just wake up too late these days, but I think there are fewer rats here of Philadelphia than there used to be.

Excluding a few run-ins here and there, I mostly spot them in the zoo-like atmosphere of a subway platform. You can look down and see a few rats popping out of the grates between the tracks, or rough-housing over an errant potato chip. But up at foot level, they’re harder to find.

The Summer of COVID seemed like a good time to be a rat. They had their own Open Streets program going. And down behind the Art Museum you could look down from the “footbridge to nowhere” to see the Isle of Jean absolutely teeming with them. Hundreds. Maybe a thousand.

On a nice day I’d wander round those parts to watch my fellow masked Philadelphians gawk at the rat herd below. Every Cheeto they aimed at a goose had a good chance of being pounced on by a rat. It was fascinating and strange. I remember a kid saying he was disturbed by the sight of a rat in actual nature, among the grass and the trees. “It’s like they’re regular animals,” he said, more or less.

Here in 2025, I have a better chance of spotting a big brown beaver on the Isle of Jean than a rat. Sometimes there are five or six. Those are good rodents, and we love them.

But somewhere nearby are the rats. Hiding, plotting, digging tunnels, getting their numbers up, and waiting for the next big pandemic to party. When that happens, I want them to think about how I disassembled my worthless trap and chose peace all those years ago.

Have You Had a Steak Today?

Donkey’s in Camden has a way with words. And steaks.

Today is National Cheesesteak Day, because why not? So it seems like a good occasion to remind you that the best one Anthony Bourdain ever had was probably from Jersey. Donkey’s Place in Camden does it differently, serving steaks on round kaiser rolls covered in poppy seeds, and they go hard on the onions. They’re also all-in on “donkey” jokes, selling colorful shirts about “eating ass.”

Anyway, as Victor wrote last week, Best of Philly winning steak shop Delco Steaks hosts a big cheesesteak eating contest every year. The 2025 Cheesesteak Bowl was on Sunday and Dan “the killer” Kennedy won. Again. He scarfed down eight-and-a-half foot-long steaks to secure the title for the fifth straight year.

If for some reason you want to see footage of that, here you go.

Put a Pin in It

President Trump, his top campaign donor Elon Musk and alleged Connecticut resident U.S. Senator Dave McCormick (R-PA) were at the Wells Fargo Center on Saturday to watch the NCAA wrestling tournament. This attracted protestors and counter-protestors, as you might imagine.

If you don’t mind, I’d like to address the guy in this video who said “America’s back, baby” in this NBC-10 video: Back to what? Back from what? Millions are seeing their healthcare, livelihoods, and personal security threatened on a daily basis by the cruel and careless actions of this administration.

And, oh man, seeing a literal child in a MAGA hat gives me chills. Ever read Deadeye Dick by Kurt Vonnegut? One day this kid is going to see the world and this president and that hat in a way his parents can’t.

By the Numbers

2 Number of cars found burning in Manayunk late last week. In case you’re wondering, the victims were a 2010 Hyundai Tucson and a 2004 Chevy Malibu, and I’m picturing our the friends of our mystery arsonist sitting him down to explain a few things. “Bro. It was supposed to be Teslas. We don’t just like hate cars in general.”

1 Local singer Penny Samar advanced to the first round on American Idol by singing Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club” at the audition. Go chase your wicked dreams, baby girl. (That’s from the song. I’m not just somebody who talks like that.)

1 Penn State’s wrestling team placed first in the final team standings at the NCAA championships at the Wells Fargo Center this weekend.

30 percent How many jobs in Philadelphia are in the medicine and education fields, which the Inky’s Inga Saffron points out are now under threat thanks to Trump’s funding cuts.

100 How many under-stocked “zombie” Rite Aids are still open in the great Philadelphia region.