Life as I know it… plus commentary

The One with the Lizard Chase

with 3 comments

Not the actual lizard, just a reasonable facsimile

We run on a tight schedule here at a-cam headquarters. I pretty much need to be on the road by 9 am or I’m late. Thursday morning, I headed downstairs at 8:55 to get the dog fed, watered and sequestered when I noticed a lizard laying on the middle of the Persian rug.

I don’t know about your house, but here, lizards are not part of what goes on the rug. Did I ever tell you about that rug? Persian rugs are ridiculously expensive. You’d think blind Persian monks are making these by hand for how much money these cost. I went to Expo to look at them and saw all of them were from $800 – $10,000. That’s right, ten large. Well screw that, I says to myself (Why I was suddenly talking like a 1940’s detective is for another post). Well anyway, I abandon hope and suddenly see this one marked $199. I call a clerk over and ask if this could be right. He says he doesn’t know and maybe he should check with the manager. I say quickly, “Why don’t we just wrap it up and get me on my way?” Suddenly I’m nervous like the time I made the arms deal in Gaza like I might lose the deal but he agrees and I’m on my way. That’s why I like this rug so much… that is until all the fringe got chewed off as well as a piece of the corner. :: mutters for ten minutes ::

OK, I’m back, so anyway, there’s this lizard on the rug. All I can think of is the only way it could have gotten in is if the oggie doggie over here, made a new friend and playtime got a little rough. Meanwhile, I’m stuck having to play lizard morgue service. I figure I can lift it into a Starbucks cup (luckily there’s one or two of those around sometimes) and dispose of it quickly and head off. It’s now 9:05.

I touch it with the lip of the cup and try to flip it in and the thing suddenly springs to life. You know how a fraction of a second can stop and suddenly all things become apparent at once? Well in the fraction of it waking, I already pictured the thing running up my arm, into my sleeve and biting my upper arm. I wondered what would happen if the lizard was radioactive because we know what happens if you get bitten by a radioactive spider. I didn’t want to spend my life secretly as “Lizard Man, Lizard Man, does whatever a lizard can.” Time unfreezes, the cup is flying in the air, the lizard is flying in the air, the dog is barking and I may have yelled out the English word for merde. Sheisse, for you Run Lola Run fans. (Mom, I don’t talk like that, I’m not even sure that happened).

It’s now 9:15 and there’s a lizard under the couch. I look at the time and wonder if I can take care of this when I get home. I also realize in the time I’m at work, the lizard will have touched my food, slept in my bed and corrupted my computer files, so I decide to stay and handle the situation. Move the couch and the dog will chase the lizard. That’s my thought. I move the couch and the dog makes a break for it. Not for the lizard but for the three rawhide bones, two chew toys and baguette that’s under the couch. I’ve forgotten about the lizard at this point because I’m wondering how a baguette got under the couch. Now I’m picturing mimes practicing in my house while I’m at work. But that’s not realistic so I forego that line of thinking. Huh? What? Oh yeah.. work…. and the lizard.

Having moved the couch, the newly exposed lizard makes a break for the couch again. The dog is out of commission since he’s now in the kitchen chewing a rawhide. OK. A broom. I’ll just sweep the thing outside and I can get to work. WORK!! It’s now 9:25. Someone’s gonna be late. But the broom is not in the closet. Who took the broom? Are the mimes practicing and taking cleaning items? Oh wait, I’m in the middle of something. I use the mop. Hey… you do what you have to.

I open the sliding glass door and move the couch again. The lizard starts to run but I am too fast. I block it with the mop and it runs for the door. Yes! Then it suddenly turns right and heads for the fireplace. No! After that it was a blur, I think a leap, a somersault, and a roundhouse to the lizard were involved. In any case it landed near the door and was escorted out with a last flick of the mop. Close the door, give a stern look to the dog who has no idea who I am since he’s completely distracted by his rawhide.

it’s now 9:35 and I’m pretty much going to be almost 40 minutes late to work. What do you do? Reroute! Hit Starbucks and do some work at another site before coming in to the office. Sure, I might have been late that day, but that lizard knows not to come back.

(To ruin a good ending to my short story by continuing to talk, Kyle would have said, “Lizards are easily startled, but it will soon be back. And in greater numbers.”)


Written by arnold

July 4, 2008 at 10:09 pm

Posted in Life in (near) LA

3 Responses

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  1. Wow. That is some quality literature right there. I actually read it twice out of sheer pleasure.

    the kyle

    July 5, 2008 at 2:51 pm

  2. You’re gonna need a bigger cup.

    Peggy C

    July 6, 2008 at 10:36 am

  3. Amazing things happen to amazing people.

    Are you sure your not secretly Lizard Man?


    July 8, 2008 at 9:46 am

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