snakes – stinky, dirty ones
I grew up in Alaska. As such, I grew up around deer, bear, porcupines, and the occasional wolf. Sure, there were plenty of fish and birds (eagles and ravens and crows! Oh my!), but the sea and air animals don’t bite one as often as a land-bound animal might, so that’s what we’re going to deal with here. Land animals.
So, in the summertime, I’d ride my bike around with my friends, looking for trouble and fun stuff (one and the same, pretty much) to go do and find. It being The Wilds Of Alaska, we were in the woods a lot and you just got used to having one ear open for unexpected playmates, as well as being able to make a lot of noise while playing with your buddies, so as to let those unexpected playmates know that you didn’t want them to play with you. Come to think of it, I never really found Hide n Seek to be that fun a game. Imagine playing a game where you had to be quiet in a place where you really shouldn’t be quiet. Not only do you have to worry about your human playmates finding you, but also about non-human ones who might find you to be a worthy sparring partner, or a meal or something else just as uninviting.
Fast-forward to adulthood in the Lower 48. One time I was out camping and we’d been playing in water all day, as it was quite hot out. Back at the campsite, I found a suitable bush to hang my watertoy on and let dry out. And no sooner had I done so, I heard The Rattle. After cleaning my soiled shorts, I came to the abrupt conclusion that I like big game much better than creepy-crawlers. Oh sure, the idea of being mauled by a bear is right up there with taking a 12ga shotgun blast right in the crotch, but at least I know how to deal with big game. It’s simple: Don’t go near them! But with creepy-crawlies, you don’t know where they are until they’re pointing a gun at you and saying, “Don’t take a single step closer, or I’ll blow your fucking brains out! I’m serious, I’m crazy…I’ll fucking do it!”
Spiders, scorpions, crabs and snakes….no thank you, they’re all creepy, stabby and ill-mannered. I’m outta here! And last weekend, I found another species of snake to add to that list. The Plumber’s Snake.
Found in households and hardware stores across the world, the Plumber’s Snake slithers its way through the plumbing in your house to help you rid yourself of sewage clogs so that you don’t have to call the Plumber himself. They don’t bite. They don’t make that pant-shitting rattle noise. But they are dirty, and they are stinky! I mean raw sewage, did-that-come-from-MY-body stinky.
Last Thursday I came home and started getting ready for the next day. I was a bit tipsy and when the toilet didn’t flush with its usual alacrity, I went to it with the plunger. After about 10 minutes I wasn’t having any luck, so I decided not to worry until the next morning when I might have more RAM in my skull to deal with something out of the ordinary. Later in my readying process I remembered that I needed to pull my pedals off of a mtn bike I’d borrowed and put them on my road bike. It was in the middle of that task that I noticed that there was a puddle in my kitchen. ??? After a bit more brainstorming, I decided that that too could wait until morning.
Cut to the morning and I had called my boss/buddy/co-worker/mentor and told him that I had a problem and needed to deal with it. He was fine with that, so I cleaned up what I could and called another friend to see if I could borrow his snake. He delivered it to me and I went to town on my toilet with no result. After leaving a msg for the landlord, I told the roommates that we had a plumbing problem and we couldn’t use any water until further notice.
The next day I was informed that the landlord was out of town, so I called a plumber, who brought out his Industrial Sized Plumbing Snake and HE went to town on my toilet. After $350 he found that we had roots growing into the sewage line and that was what had caused our little problem. I also found that he was a Boston Bruins fan and he kind of sniffed at me when I mentioned that I was a Red Wings fan. Whatever, dude, fix my shitter and prepare to lose the Stanley Cup.
And that’s how I found that, in addition to the rattly kind, I also hate Dirty Stinky Snakes as well!
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