It's not that I'd never seen bats up close before. I had experienced a couple of isolated bat invasions during the summer months when I was visiting someone else's house. It's just that I had never had to share my living space with bats who had taken up residence.
I don't think I could ever get used to listening to the scratching behind the walls, knowing that at some point in the not-so-distant future I would be surrounded with the spastic fluttering of winged rodents as they ate a hole through my ceiling or walls and squeezed through into my bedroom at night. I was terrified that I may awake in the still dark wee hours of the morning and be dive-bombed by several furry flyers whose appearance recalled dark spooky tales.
In reality, there's no chance a bat will transform into a vampire, and even the bats that are called "vampire bats" live in the tropics and so far away from my northern home. It is also true that vampire bats are not known to attack humans, preferring to snack on the blood of large herbivores, such as cows and horses.
Still, this knowledge doesn't really make me dislike a bat invasion any less. Bats are fine, even helpful, creatures who gobble up hundreds of mosquitoes a night (you know, those little darlings that actually do feast on human blood). But they are appreciated for their good work out of doors -- not inside the house.