That Time I Found a Snake in My Closet

I had just gotten out of the shower and was opening my closet to decide what to wear. My sister Beth and I were going to Providence for a boat tour and a day of strolling the waterfront and stopping in any cafe with a delicious window display. That's where my head was when I saw something on the middle of my closet floor and automatically stooped to pick it up. Is that the string of my sweats? What is it doing on the floor? Before I could even finish the thought it started to move and that's when I realized it wasn't a clothing item but a snake. In my closet.

Realizing it was only a little garden snake, probably harmless and more scared of me than I was of him, I picked him up by the tail and proceeded to walk him outside and set him free in the lawn where he could startle someone else. 

Just kidding. I lost my shit.

OhmyGodofmyGodohmyGod! There's a snake in my closet! I started panicking immediately. First of all, what the fuck. Second of all, seriously, what the fuck. How did he get in? Was there some cache of snakes hidden in my closet? Did my shrieking scare him back where he came from or was he curled up inside a pair of my shoes? All of a sudden Woody's catch phrase from Toy Story hit a little too close to home; there was literally a snake in my boot. Possibly.

My sister was in the kitchen making our picnic lunch when I bolted in yelling "Snake! Snake!" Then I did the only reasonable thing I could think of: grabbed the cats, threw them in the closet and prayed they would emerge victorious. Munch took one look and skidded out of there, with no amount of cajoling on my part to get her back in. Finn flopped down in the middle of the floor, where the snake had been moments ago, and proceeded to nap. 

I called Brent in a panic, and since I never call him at work, he answered very calmly, expecting the worst.

Me: I just saw a snake in my closet! I screamed and it slithered away and now I can't find it and the cats won't help and Beth and I have a river boat tour at 1 and I can't stay here all day but I'm not just leaving it to slither around the house and WTF am I supposed to do?!

Brent: Sorry, I was in the elevator, you're breaking up. What's wrong?

Me: THERE'S A FUCKING SNAKE IN MY FUCKING CLOSET!

Brent: A snake? Are you sure? Can you just move it outside?

Me: I'm not touching it! Anyway, I can't find it, it slithered behind my hamper.

Brent: So now it's just at large in the house?

Me: I threw the cats in but they were very unimpressed with the whole thing.

Brent: You locked our cats in the closet with a snake like some cage match?

Me: I did not lock them in the closet....you know that door locks on the inside.

Brent: Roll up a towel or something and line each side of the closet door so it can't get out. I'll deal with it when I get home. 

Me: Oooh, good idea. And you'll get rid of it?

Brent: Well, I guess I have no choice. Seeing as you aren't afraid of throwing someone in there to fight to the death.

Rationally, I know I should not have been as frightened as I was. It was a little thing, probably harmless. But try telling that to the part of your brain that sees an object in slithering motion when you're not expecting it. It's like the definition of heebie jeebies. I've dealt with pests before, mice and cockroaches in various apartments, but this was different. Mice and roaches come with the territory with city living. Snakes? We're in Massachusetts, not Arizona. I live up here so I don't have to deal with this shit. Snow and ice and polar vortex winds are the price I pay for having a snake free existence. And if I do have to deal with snakes, I expect it to be in the yard or somewhere outside. Not in my house, and certainly not in my closet.

I was bemoaning all this to another sister later that night while Brent was dealing with the snake. He emerged empty handed, assuring me he had searched all my shoes and done a thorough sweep of the closet. He boarded up the access panel that is most likely where the snake got in from. 

Last week I read a book called Florida, a bunch of short stories with some tie to the state. Almost every story mentioned snakes and their omnipresence in the sunshine state. The entire book had me thinking twice about ever going back to Disney and renouncing anyone who lives there. This week a snake shows up in my closet. I've been Godsmacked good.