So, I'm having an uneventful morning today, puttering around in my slob clothes, and I hear gunshots.
9am in a mostly empty neighborhood (everyone with jobs is AT their job), you don't really want to be hearing, you know, gunshots.
So I put my kid in a safe place and then hang in the front doorway. Sounds like it's coming from across the street somewhere.
I hear it again! I go grab the phone. There it is AGAIN. Holy shit, that's coming from S's place, the older couple who lives across and one down. They're friends of mine, we like to swap garden goodies. So I'm about a second from calling 911, I got the phone in my hand. I decide to call S first to see if she answers.
In retrospect, I probably should have called 911 first, THEN called S. But like I said, I wasn't even halfway through my first cuppa, and my brain doesn't exactly fire on all pistons in the morning.
Anyways, she answers the phone and says "don't worry, it's me!"
Conversation follows:
S: I shot a snake.
Me: (oh, holy fuck, you are NOT over there shooting up your backyard over a fucking snake, are you even KIDDING ME????) S, are you okay?
S: Yes! Oh God! I'm about to have a heart attack! A snake came out on my walk way and I shot it! You know I am terrified of those things!
Me: S, listen, is it dead?
S: I think so, it's twitching. Should I cut the head off?
Me: Yeah, if you wounded it. S, why didn't you call me?
S: I panicked!
Me: (no SHIT you panicked, Annie Fucking Oakley) I would have come gotten it for you.
S: Should I shoot it again?
Me: What? God! No! Put the gun away. Do NOT fire the gun anymore!
S: I got a half moon edger. I'll use that.
Me: I'll stay on the phone.
S: (In background) AAAAAAAAAAGH! It raised up!
Me: (facepalm) S? S?
S: (back on phone) Oh, God, I can't do it, I can't do it, I'm about to pass out over here.
Me: (fuck.) I'm coming over. Put the gun away. I'm coming to help you.
So I throw on my hat and glasses so I can freaking see, put on some shoes, and trundle on over there. I'm thinking if she just nicked it, maybe I can just bring it home and nurse it back to heath. As it turned out, she'd blown it all to hell, and it was just suffering. Snakes are very tough, no telling how long the thing would take to die. It was just a big fat garter snake, too. Probably had been in her garden for years, and she'd stumbled onto him by fluke. Really sad.
So here I am having to kill this poor animal with a damn half moon edger. How much does THAT suck? It made me literally queasy to have to do it, I LIKE snakes and I don't like to harm anything. But I couldn't very well just leave him there like that. And I sure as HELL couldn't leave him to S's tender mercies. So now there's freaking blood all over S's nice garden walk. Which I hope takes a while to wash off.
I mean, I can handle her phobia. I have a phobia myself, just not a snake phobia. It's a primal thing, snake phobia. I get it. People freak OUT over snakes. I'm not busting on her fear, she can't help it. But discharging a damn pistol over it? Seriously?
People lose their damn MINDS over snakes. I saw a guy put a boat down in the swamp, shooting a snake that had fallen into it. She's lucky the bullets didn't richochet.
I wish I HAD called 911 first, really. Just to impress upon her that maybe discharging a freaking pistol in a neighborhood was maybe a BAD IDEA.
9am in a mostly empty neighborhood (everyone with jobs is AT their job), you don't really want to be hearing, you know, gunshots.
So I put my kid in a safe place and then hang in the front doorway. Sounds like it's coming from across the street somewhere.
I hear it again! I go grab the phone. There it is AGAIN. Holy shit, that's coming from S's place, the older couple who lives across and one down. They're friends of mine, we like to swap garden goodies. So I'm about a second from calling 911, I got the phone in my hand. I decide to call S first to see if she answers.
In retrospect, I probably should have called 911 first, THEN called S. But like I said, I wasn't even halfway through my first cuppa, and my brain doesn't exactly fire on all pistons in the morning.
Anyways, she answers the phone and says "don't worry, it's me!"
Conversation follows:
S: I shot a snake.
Me: (oh, holy fuck, you are NOT over there shooting up your backyard over a fucking snake, are you even KIDDING ME????) S, are you okay?
S: Yes! Oh God! I'm about to have a heart attack! A snake came out on my walk way and I shot it! You know I am terrified of those things!
Me: S, listen, is it dead?
S: I think so, it's twitching. Should I cut the head off?
Me: Yeah, if you wounded it. S, why didn't you call me?
S: I panicked!
Me: (no SHIT you panicked, Annie Fucking Oakley) I would have come gotten it for you.
S: Should I shoot it again?
Me: What? God! No! Put the gun away. Do NOT fire the gun anymore!
S: I got a half moon edger. I'll use that.
Me: I'll stay on the phone.
S: (In background) AAAAAAAAAAGH! It raised up!
Me: (facepalm) S? S?
S: (back on phone) Oh, God, I can't do it, I can't do it, I'm about to pass out over here.
Me: (fuck.) I'm coming over. Put the gun away. I'm coming to help you.
So I throw on my hat and glasses so I can freaking see, put on some shoes, and trundle on over there. I'm thinking if she just nicked it, maybe I can just bring it home and nurse it back to heath. As it turned out, she'd blown it all to hell, and it was just suffering. Snakes are very tough, no telling how long the thing would take to die. It was just a big fat garter snake, too. Probably had been in her garden for years, and she'd stumbled onto him by fluke. Really sad.
So here I am having to kill this poor animal with a damn half moon edger. How much does THAT suck? It made me literally queasy to have to do it, I LIKE snakes and I don't like to harm anything. But I couldn't very well just leave him there like that. And I sure as HELL couldn't leave him to S's tender mercies. So now there's freaking blood all over S's nice garden walk. Which I hope takes a while to wash off.
I mean, I can handle her phobia. I have a phobia myself, just not a snake phobia. It's a primal thing, snake phobia. I get it. People freak OUT over snakes. I'm not busting on her fear, she can't help it. But discharging a damn pistol over it? Seriously?
People lose their damn MINDS over snakes. I saw a guy put a boat down in the swamp, shooting a snake that had fallen into it. She's lucky the bullets didn't richochet.
I wish I HAD called 911 first, really. Just to impress upon her that maybe discharging a freaking pistol in a neighborhood was maybe a BAD IDEA.
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