Seriously, I don’t even know where to begin. You know in the Indiana Jones’ movies where Harrison Ford says, “I HATE SNAKES!” Well, I have always agreed with Mr. Indiana Jones that snakes were bad but I didn’t HATE snakes. Well, at least I didn’t think I hated snakes. I really could not hate snakes because I really only had experiences with snakes behind glass walls and well, I was safe and they seemed well, harmless.
My first snake-not-behind-glass experience happened when I was about 6 years old. I was hiking with my family up Mill Creek Canyon when on the way down the trail; there was a rattlesnake, coiled, rattling right in the middle of our trail and it just happened to be at the spot where one side of the trail was the mountain and the other side of the trail was a cliff. My dad bravely stood facing the snake and put each child behind him towards the cliff and moved us to safety. I vaguely remember the event but to be honest, I probably remember the story more than the event.
My second experience happened when I was 21 years old, I was running with my friend Catherine on Antelope Island and we saw a snake in the middle of the trail. We looked at it and jumped over it and kept on running. So, as you can see, not a lot of experience. So, why do you think that I have had not one but two run-ins with snakes in a matter of months?
My first run-in happened this past summer. I was packing to go to Ohio for my brother Dan’s graduation. I had bought Dan a graduation gift four years earlier and I needed to get it out of the basement. The night before I left, I decided that because Dan, Ellen & kiddies were moving, I would just mail the gift. I thought it was a good plan and I went to bed. The next morning I woke up and I could not get the stupid gift out of my mind so I ran downstairs to grab the gift (remember, it is in the basement). As I descended down the basement stairs, I suddenly stopped. It took my mind a few seconds to comprehend what I was looking at. My mind said, “That looks like a snake” and then the other part of my brain said, “Snakes are not suppose to be in your basement.” However, quickly the first part of my brain took over and I realized that yes it was a snake and yes it was in my basement. So, I first went to get Dan’s present and then I started looking for a way to kill the snake. I did not have a shovel (and I really didn’t want to have to smash a snake). I thought about poisoning the snake but I didn’t think Windex would work fast enough.
(Sorry the picture is out of focus, I think I was shaking)
So, I ran back up the stairs and called my next door neighbor- no answer. So, I called my home teacher and to my relief, he answered. After he stopped laughing, he told me that he would come over and take care of my snake. I couldn’t do anything but run to the top floor of the house and wait. When Cameron came over, I told him that I wanted him to kill the snake because then it would be dead and there would be no chance of the snake coming back. Cameron convinced me that the snake was not poisonous and that I should let it live and so I reluctantly agreed. Cameron took his lacrosse sticks and scooped the snake into a brown paper grocery bag and then he took the snake into my neighbor’s yard. To this day, I have no idea of how the snake ended up in my basement.
About a month and half later, I was at work when I walked through our workroom (which is a wide open space) to get to my file room. When I walked back into the workroom I had one of the moments that I experience in my basement. My brain saw a black snake but my brain also said that snakes did not exist in office buildings in Georgetown. My niece, Caitlin just happened to be working with me that day and so I said, “Caitlin, GO GET MIKE!” (Mike is my boss and I had just seen him). Caitlin said, “Oh, Aunt Chris, it’s just a snake.” and she proceeds to walk over to the snake in her high heels and bends down to pick-up the snake. So, I say again, “Caitlin, DON”T TOUCH THE SNAKE! GO GET MIKE.” Again, Caitlin basically acts like I am over reacting and gets closer to the snake. At this point, I had made enough commotion that a few of my co-workers showed up and then yelled at Caitlin (who was about to pick-up the snake) that the snake was poisonous and that she should not touch it. Caitlin backed off and one of my co-worker’s grabbed a box and with the help of another box coaxed the snake in the box. He decided that he was going to take the snake back to the canal (my building sits on the C&O Canal in Georgetown) and on his way out of the door the snake “jumped” out of the box. Well, he made enough commotion that some workman came over and they asked if my co-worker wanted them to kill the poisonous snake. My co-worker allowed them to “stun” the snake and it was dumped into the canal. After things calmed down a bit and we did some internet research, it was decided that it was a baby poisonous snake. Maybe a rattlesnake, maybe something else but it was a baby and it was poisonous.
Every day after the snake day, I would look under my desk, around corners, in empty rooms for more snakes. I was sure if there was one baby snake then there was a mommy, a daddy and some sibling snakes. One day, I arrived at work and looked under my desk, no snake. A while later, I came back from a meeting and when I got back to my desk, I slowly looked under my desk and I saw a snake. I jumped and ran and yelled, “Snake, snake!!” Then I realized that my co-worker, Jon was laughing hysterically. He told me that the snake under my desk was a fake, a very realistic looking fake, that he had purchase over the weekend for my benefit. I didn’t think it was funny (at the time), my heart was pounding, my face looked like a purple grape and I kept saying, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. (Quite loudly) You are so not getting paid (I run payroll, my only threat)…..” You get the picture. Not one of my finest moments. Not to mention that we had just hired two new employees that just happened to be taking their tour of the office when I started yelling. Jon just kept laughing and laughing. Finally, my red face died down and my heart calmed down and I could pick up the fake snake.
(It looks more real from far away)
(Close-up, it looks really fake!)
So, what is the moral of these snake stories? Well, first snakes are better behind glass at zoos. Second, know your home teacher and make sure he is good at lacrosse and isn’t scared of snakes. Third, don’t try and pick up snakes-they could be poisonous (sounds like dating advice, ha ha). Fourth, learn to smile when a practical joke is played on you. Fifth, Indiana Jones was right. I HATE SNAKES!
