SOS (and now - Update!)

ON MY THIRD DAY AS WOB MANAGEMENT TRAINEE, I AM SORRY TO REPORT THAT WOB MILFORD IS CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE DUE TO THE SIGHTING OF A SNAKE IN THE GYM AREA.

The snake was reported to me by my Dads. He asked me to do something about it. I said that I was not going to do something about that problem--I do not do snakes. The snake is, apparently, caught in a cobweb. Neither Moms, myself or Archibald has seen the snake and we plan to keep it this way.

WE ARE SORRY FOR WHATEVER INCONVENIENCE THIS MAY CAUSE TO THE WOB MILFORD PATRONS. HOWEVER, WE'RE NOT SORRY ENOUGH TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE PROBLEM, BECAUSE FEAR HAS COMPLETELY OVERTAKEN OUR SENSES.

- MANAGEMENT (TRAINEE)

UPDATE: The SOS ("Snake on Site") crisis is over, though I do feel that the incident has damaged our brand. When Auntie Pam heard about it, she couldn't stop laughing. (Auntie Pam, WOB is not laughable. WOB is a reputable gym. It just had a temporary critter crisis.) When Auntie Anne heard about it, she actually screamed. (Auntie Anne, so did I.) She then said she would never stay at our house overnight ever, ever again.

When Uncle Luis heard about it, he made a snakey-motion with his hand to ensure he had translated it correctly in his mind. Then he kind of turned pale. (Uncle Luis, the emotions that snakes create did not get lost in translation....) Thankfully, when Auntie Rachel heard about it, she said, "Aw! How cute! I'll come over on Thursday after work and will rescue him. Maybe I'll even take him home as a pet!" (That's when Auntie Anne said she'd never go to Rachel's house again, either.) Auntie Rachel had one caveat - it must be alive. If it wasn't, she feared she would cry and go into a deep, dark mourning period about nature gone loco.

At work yesterday, Dads got his wits about him. Moms called him and told him that Auntie Rachel was coming over tomorrow to save the snake. Dads said, "No. I am a man. I can do this." Then he kind of shivered all over his body.

Moms worked late again last night, so when she pulled up in the driveway, Dads was already home. The back door was open (no worries, the screen door was closed so no other snakes could enter the house). Our litter bucket was missing from the driveway. Moms entered the house and heard the basement door close. She cried out, "DO YOU HAVE IT?" Dads replied, with both fear and pride in his voice, "I HAVE THE SNAKE."

Moms felt bad that she put all of this on Dads. While most of their wedding vows were in Hawaiian, she's pretty sure that there was something in there "for better or for worse," and, well, this totally fell into the "worse" category. Moms said, "I'll help you set him free."

Dads turned the corner. He had the cat litter bucket (it's a big one) with the lid on, and was carrying the pole that we attached sandpaper to so that we could sand the drywall we patched. Dads looked worn.

He walked out the back door. Moms held the door open for him. Dads took about four steps into the yard and said, "Should we let him go here?" Moms shrieked. "No. Walk as far back into our property as we can. He probably likes the swamp. Let's put him near the swamp."

From my picture window, I watched Moms, Dads, the bucket, and the pole (Dads was still clinging to it) walk to the tippy end of the backyard. Dads set the bucket down on the ground. He tapped (ok, whacked) the lid of the bucket to ensure that the snake hadn't figured out how to cling on to the lid and was waiting to attack (in garden snake fashion) when they opened the lid. (To Dads credit, he got this fear from Moms stories about Hawaiian centipedes who coil themselves around the lid of the pan when you try to kill them by boiling....) Dads removed the lid. Moms put on her brave pants and said, "I want to see the snake."

Moms looked in the bucket. She looked at Dads. She looked in the bucket. She said, "Where is the snake?" Dads pointed and said, "That. That is a snake."

Moms said, "Um, no. That's a worm." It was about the length of the worms that commit suicide every day on our sidewalk, but was a bit chubbier (not by much) and was black. Dads said, "NO. THAT IS A SNAKE." Moms said, "This is stupid. I'm setting it free." Dads walked backwards about 30 feet. Moms tipped the bucket, gave it a tap, and figured the "snake" fell out, because she couldn't find it in the bucket anymore.

As they were walking back to the house, checking their pant cuffs and ankles often to ensure there were no snakes clinging on, Dads said, "You know, you didn't see it wriggle. You just saw it all coiled up. It's wicked scary when it wriggles." Moms said, "You're right. It was rather passive when I saw it." Dads said, "Did you see it's white neck? IT HAS A WHITE NECK."

Moms stopped in the yard. She said, "Dads, I will take you out for dinner tonight to celebrate the grand removal of the snake from WOB Milford - on one condition. The additional details of the snake, its appearance, its behavior, and its likes and dislikes goes to the grave with you. OK?"

Dads said, "OK." He paused. "Can I get dessert?" Moms said, "We can get dessert." Dads said, "Done deal."

Folks. That is the story of the SOS ("Snake on Site") at WOB Milford. I am proud to share that we are again Snake Free, so come on down! (Holla! to Auntie Rachel for offering to provide snake removal services.)

-JDamn - OUT!