The Curious Case of the Snake in the House

1 Jun

Dear All Good People:

 

I should have known I was going to have a weird few days when I discovered a snake in my basement office.  This was Thursday morning.  I am  scared of snakes, really scared of snakes,  and a tiny and harmless gardener snake to me looks like a giant anaconda that has been sent to feast on my flesh for days keeping me alive the entire time.  When a snakes tongue shots out, I don’t see that; I see a mouth open and a bunch of little snakes emerging from  its mouth coming to grab me and all my loved ones.  This was a long way of saying I didn’t take this well.  I was so surprised that I thought I was going to have a heart-attack or stroke out…and for the first time in my life, my heart actually hurt.  I’m  not proud of what happens next.  I sprinted out the back door in the basement, outside, and around my house.  I suppose I should mention I was just in a towel and had come out to check on something in my office before I took a shower.  Moving the fastest I have ever moved in my life, and completely unaware of the fact that I was running on rocks in bare feet,  I ran into my neighbors in their driveway (I said hello) and I proceeded to break into my home and arm myself for the task at hand: a shovel, gloves, shoes, a bandana to cover my mouth, and my work goggles.  This was project snake elimination.

 

I do not support capital punishment in anyway, including for animals that break into my home.  I have a catch, rehabilitation, and release program, by which I mean I take the animals as far away as possible from my home.  I even, when I caught a family of squirrels who mistook my attic for their tree, released them  as I caught them  in the same place next to the same tree so they could be reunited and be together again.  I decided it would be hypocritical of me to kill the snake.  I had to escort it out of my basement.  This turned out to be a very hard thing to do and this turned into a good hour of me running around, trying to get the thing onto my shovel so I could get it out of my house, my life, my over-active imagination, and hopefully my subconsious. 

 

Yes, I was only wearing a towel during this..before it fell off. 

 

Trying to catch a snake with a shovel and get it out of my house is a lot shoveling sand with chopsticks.  Finally, I managed to throw it into my yard, where I put myself on full lock-down mode.  I really tried not to become paranoid and shampoo my entire carpets…HAHA..that would just be paranoid.  Who would do that?  As I was shampooing my carpets, I realized that there could be other snakes in the house.  This was a problem, because…fear made me believe this.  I left my house and put on full-scale retreat that the French military should study for speed, efficiency, and management. 

 

I went to a great party, bought some great art, and returned to my home and realized that I will never get to sleep tonight without help because I was worried another snake would look at my bed as a good place to spend the night.  And, by help, I mean I found an old bottle of Ambien, popped one, and went to bed. 

 

I can only surmise what happens next.

 

I woke up in my guest bedroom wearing a sport jacket, sandals–that I didn’t even think I owned–and my boxers…at least I was decent..kinda.  I went to my office and realized that my computer was on…I always turn it off at night…this is no a good thing.  Taking off the screen-saver, I realized with horror that apparently I was trying buy a Porsche in my Ambien fog last night.  I’m  not a car guy!  I don’t like cars!  I like old fuel efficient vehicles that if they blow up on me or get damaged, I won’t care.  I only buy what I need and I try to live as simply as possible. And, go on with my day.  What possessed me to try to buy a Porsche when I can’t imagine Ambien is a reason to return a car?

 

 Hmm.  This was a close call.  

 

The other Friday morning problem was sartorial in nature and a strange problem. My father has always said that he randomly grow an inch in his thirties and his forties.  It appears as if, over-night a few weeks ago,I grow at least an inch in height, I lost at least a two inches on my waist, my feet grow (the left one more than the right), …my shoulders got broader (it’s as if finding clothes wasn’t hard enough and airplane rides weren’t exercises in noise and sitting torture), and I appear to have lost my butt.  I know this because when I was walking around my home, my pants came off on my rear.  At least it didn’t happen in a public place…that happened at the bank later in the day. Because of this, none of my clothes fit me anymore.  I have one pair of slacks, two pairs of shoes, and maybe one or two shirts that fit.  They don’t fit well, but at least I can go out without having to stroll around naked.

 

At first, I was upset about this.  Then, I realized that for the first time in my life, I could determine what clothes I wanted to wear.  In high school, I spent my money on trips abroad, I always had to dress in NYC casual and formal due to internships in college, later, I always had a dress code to follow at work.  Now, this is the perfect opportunity to have fun with my wardrobe.  I don’t judge people on how they dress: the most important question is if they are a good person.  I don’t believe my clothes are a uniform to determine my side in the on-going culture debate; you either are logical and make sense or you don’t.

 

 The question is what should I look like.  A lot of people believe clothes make the person, I think they are for fun.  I played with some ideas (a happy guy in black), Euro, Bill Murray-casual, but then I thought what my favorite people on the planet dress like.  And, I always liked hippies…they are really nice, friendly people; they care about people, they are always interesting, generous, and have lots of friends.  I want people to think that about me, but I hit a problem.

 

My first problem is that I like to wear a jacket when I go out, like a sport jacket or something light like that.  This isn’t due to any vanity issues; it’s more due to the fact that I carry lots of stuff with me when I leave the house and I need the pockets.  I don’t like fumbling around in my pants looking for stuff, so I like to wear jackets.  (For those interested, I carry a wallet, my cell phone, my day timer, a pad of paper for notes, chap stick, breath mints, my throw away wallet [in case I get mugged I can give them a fake wallet…NYC habit when I lived next to the projects], and a pen).   So, I want to be able to intergrate this into whatever outfit I choose.

 

The next problem is more one of operations: I don’t know where to get any of these clothes.  I know where I can get hemp, but I don’t know how to braid this into a bracelet and a necklace. 

 

Any suggestions would be helpful. 

 

And, to think my Friday got weirder.

 

C.

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