Hillbilly Superheros

I was supposed to be going grocery shopping tonight, but after careful consideration, I think I can postpone my weekly trip over the mountains and through the woods, past Grandma's house and on to the store for one more day.

This morning, I stepped outside for a few minutes to stretch my legs and get out of the cubicle asylum. I followed my usual path, out to the middle of the parking lot away from all grass, shrubbery, trees, vehicles, rocks and anything else that might look like a nice place for a snake to hang out. I know my fear is irrational, black snakes won't harm you, but I spend most of the summers here in Frog Pond Holler horrified that everything that moves is a snake coming after me.

Most of you probably remember the story a few weeks ago, of the parking lot snake invasion, where I accidentally sacrificed a new born bird to the biggest damned black snake I've ever seen. Well, apparently word of the free buffet got out to his slithering kinfolk. As I rounded the corner of the building to my new smoking spot, I saw it. A big, black, wiggling serpent, seemingly sunning himself in MY SPOT. I mean, RIGHT where I stand. My stomach churned, I turned and waddled my fat ass as fast as I could carry it back up the steps and back into the office. Bossman took one look at my face and asked, "Snake?" I nodded. He snickered.

"How big was it?"

"It really doesn't effin' matter and I didn't stop to measure the damned thing."

He snickered some more. I think he's developed some sort of death wish.

I went into the adjoining office to inform the others who frequent the smoking area. One of the girls, the one who accused me of feeding the last one, hollered, "Git Festus!! Let him keeeeel it!!!"

Although snakes are the one and only thing in this world that I am totally horrifed by, I really didn't think it needed to be killed. It just needed to be gone, far away. I don't like the thoughts of killing anything, I'm a wuss that way. I tried to bargain with them, but within seconds they had the men folk, armed with two by fours and an old metal sign, flying out the door on a mission to rid the world of evil. They looked like a bunch of hillbilly superheros, John Deere caps turned around backwards (cuz they meaned business) and determination in their eyes. All they needed were some capes and maybe some spiffy boots.

And then, something really weird happened. I found myself silently rooting for the snake.

I don't know how in the heck it got away from that angry mob that came after it, but the the menfolk soon returned, heads hung low in disapointment. They said they couldn't find it.

When I walked outside this afternoon, I made a silent deal with the unseen critter. I knew it was still out there, somewhere.

Just stay out of my sight and I won't tell the angry hillbilly superheros.