Snake Guy

Snake Guy

I am fifty or fiftyish years old and watching TV at home.

I am watching TV and a certified genius is showing us something. He’s got a big ole bucket for a hat so you really can’t see that he’s a bit older and maybe wiser than the others who surround him. He is here to TEACH US what commitment looks like. Bucket Hat is standing still and two notes of TT from TWICE plays and before you know it he’s dancing and then making a crying face and it’s like damn that was fast, but that’s nothing. Dynamite, maybe half a note, walking like Jungkook and snapping his fingers like the MAN that he is. Now, some other song that I don’t know, he’s like rowing a boat and getting no data anywhere.

BAM! My wife is yelling and it is an E-MER-GEN-CY! “SNAKE IN THE BUSH! ACH!” Shit! I don’t like snakes but my gender assignment requires me to act and I run.

I’m tearing around the house and Lesley is pointing at a bush. I look in and sure, she’s right, fuck, it’s a snake. Normally, you don’t want a poisonous snake on your property but in a case like this, it’s actually an advantage. See, the fire department loves to come out and just knock the damn head off, put the wriggly body in a paper shopping bag, hose down the blood, look very sexy (firemen are very sexy. I mean, what do they eat? Must be dinosaurs or crazy powerful food). My problem here is this is obviously not poisonous and well, the firemen think you’re a pussy if you call for a non-poisonous snake. HANDLE IT YOURSELF and bam goes the phone and you’re humiliated and the snake is laughing etc.

The problem right now is this snake isn’t laughing at all. He doesn’t like that I’m about to get JALAPENO his business and he’s growling. I have never heard a snake growl. Lesley’s like isn’t this your problem now but is staying because she’s cool. My body is telling me that we should retreat to a safe distance, which should be somewhere on the other side of the planet, and maybe nuke our house from orbit. Before I commit to that, I’m going to check the newspaper. Maybe, you know, there’s like a Snake Guy like right here, nearby in Oak Park. I open the paper and it’s amazing! OAK PARK SNAKE GUY is listed in the classifieds and he’s got a number to call.

It was hard hitting the buttons on the phone with the fear and all, but I get it done, and it’s rin… BAM! He’s on: “Oak Park Snake Guy.” I’m not sure the phone rang once but he’s there. I’m not sure how to order and there’s no like voicemail or anything you know like other businesses. You got options like:

1 for killing a Black Mamba 2 for killing a Cottonmouth 3 for killing a Copperhead 4 for killing a Sidewinder 5 for killing a California Mountain Snake (… and five is right out) 6 for killing Bill.

…but I bet there wouldn’t have been “kill growling snake” and that’s what I needed right now. So I just start talking and try to tell him:

“Uh, I have a snake in the bush. He’s…” Snake Guy, he don’t have time for long-winded explanations. There’s a snake, let’s get going. “Where you located?”

He’s impatient as it takes me about ten seconds to give him my address. He knew he could have done it in half the time. “I’m on my way.”

Shit! I’m at the back of the house and Snake Guy is already coming. I run to the front of the house and he’s already there! “Hiya, bud, where’s the snake?” I’m still a little shocked at how this all came together in like ninety seconds and I point the Snake Guy of Oak Park at the growling bush.

Snake Guy, he don’t play. He looks into the bush, thinks I’m a pussy, and says “kingsnake. Nice one.” Takes his hand in, the bush is now growling and shaking, and yanks the wriggling and now hissing and spitting thing. Now he’s holding this danger noodle and walking back to his car. I’m looking inside for like a cage or a bucket. Snake Guy doesn’t need all that shit. What you do, you open the door and just huck it in. You’ll find it eventually I guess. I’m still a little shocked and thankful. Snake Guy is THE BEST. So he’s not asking for money, and I like money, but I think I should give him some. Snake Guy: “Pshaw, I do this for fun.”

He’s getting back into the car with the snake somewhere in the car, but he turns and says: “Bill, I just want to be your friend on Facebook. Will you be my Facebook friend?” I don’t have Facebook, but I do want to be his friend and I vow “I too want to be Facebook friends” and BAM! I’m making an account and Snake Guy, listed on the top, just where he belongs.

Now, you’d think this is the end of a fun, kinda crazy Snake Guy story. No, you’re wrong, we’re just getting to the good part.

So it’s like, I dunno, like a year or so later. And wouldn’t you know it, snake in the bush. This time we know exactly what to do. I have Snake Guy on speed dial. I push, he answers: “Bill, got a snake?” I say “yep.” He hasn’t appeared yet and I’m getting impatient, but he explains: “Lotta snakes today. I’ll be there soon, my man.” Snake Guy just out saving the world all day long. So we’re hanging out front, waiting for Snake Guy, which is really weird right now. While we’re waiting, Lesley’s mom and dad show up to help us with the kids. They ask why are you out here? Well, we’re waiting for Snake Guy and it’s already been five minutes… and BAM! Snake Guy is pulling up and out the car asking for the snake and I’m pointing, getting ready for the grab-toss-in-car thing that Snake Guy is so famous for.

Now, I know you’re thinking it’s been kinda strange, but Lesley’s mom is looking hard at Snake Guy. She calls Snake Guy another name than Snake Guy and asks “is that you?” I’m thinking Snake Guy is just gonna go “what! I’m Snake Guy, everybody knows me,” but nope. He knows Sally and Jim but they don’t have a hidden bush snake near her. No snakes? Well, you’re not knowing him then.

No, Snake Guy is her estate planner on the side. It’s great to know Snake Guy has aspirations like estate planning and not just hucking snakes. We laugh and laugh at the coincidence. And Snake Guy hucked that second snake just like the first.

Now, I know you’re thinking that this cannot, CANNOT, have happened. I dare you. Call Snake Guy. See if you can get four, maybe five (five is right now) seconds of conversation before a snake is flying into Snake Guy’s car.