Like the new bracelet my daughter brought me back from Guatemala? It's the third bangle from the left. The other three are my former friend Paige's pet snakes. <— yes, plural.
If I stumble across a snake in the wild, I'm likely to die a thousand deaths, and in the process, kill whoever's in hearing distance with a squeal that's certain to explode glass. In captivity, I'm prone to tame them and wear them as scarves; handy, now that scarves continue as fashion trend.
Paige's snakes are named Bob and Frank. Her girls told me that when I asked, but I'm pretty sure they made up those names on the spot. They're tricky that way.
I can't remember which is which, but for the sake of this post, we'll call Bob the yellow and orange one; he and I got very close…
I'm pretty sure he knew this wasn't my neck and he was just trying to "welcome" me with a bear hug, snake style; aka a serpentine Napoleon complex.
Then Bob decided to get to know me a leeeetle bit bettah…
Paige, snapping away paparazzi-style (I'm sure now to distract me), tried to convince me that it feels good for a snake to slither across your skin. It's cool. It's smooth. THEY LIKE TO CRAWL INTO YOUR SHIRT AND OUT YOUR SLEEVE!!
When she told me that, I flung that mutha across the room, grabbed my camera and my keys and barely escaped with my life!
I'm just glad I survived to tell you the story.
Our "friendship", however, did not.