so what if it tastes like chicken?

Snakes. In Hawaii, we have no snakes. We have no seagulls, no rabies and most importantly... NO SNAKES. I am a big fan of none of these things anyway, so I am content to go without. In my eclectic group of years on this planet, I have seen the occasional snake. The majority of them have been in pet shops on the mainland, but my most common experience has been on television. To be more precise, The Croc Hunter has been gracious enough to let me live my snake experiences vicariously through him. God rest his soul. Coming to my girlfriend's house in Florida has been nothing short of visual overload. The trees, plants, people and surf are all different. The biggest thing I have had to deal with is not the traffic, kids or weather. It's the snake. She has a Corn Snake, in a fish tank, right outside the bedroom door. I took a finger and held it up to the glass. I pulled a muscle in my shoulder yanking it back as it struck the glass like a Cobra. I feel Indiana Jones's pain when it comes to "hating snakes". Well, I don't "hate" anything that lives its life without interfering with mine, but ignorance breeds fear. I am ignorant of the snake but wonder why I would be so uncomfortable with it around. I don't think it is going to escape from its cage and attack me in my sleep or anything, I just don't like looking at it in the glass display box every time I cruise by. Like window shopping for creepy. I know it has no ears to hear me with, so "Hello little Buddy" falls not on deaf ears, but NO ears. I guess that means there is no way to convince a snake verbally that it would be better off biting something other than me. I have an overly healthy appreciation for life. Very Taoist in its nature, it is my "way of life" this go-around. I don't even like to paint over ants. I am an intuit that feels a little too much at times. You can go on and on about the chicken and beef that I ingest on a daily basis. You can tell me that plants are the way to go. Plants are living things too... they're just easier to catch. I know that the world revolves around the hierarchy of the food chain. I know fish get eaten by bigger fish and cats eat geckos. I just don't find any pleasure out of watching anything die. The Hippo. When I went on a first date with an old girlfriend, we thought it would be cool to smoke one and go to the Zoo in Hilo. I was happy to see all the cool animals in the park. I was amazed at the peacocks just cruising the sidewalks like elegantly dressed tourists. The monkeys were of course the coolest. Not because they do things that mimic humans, but because the area around the whole cage was covered in landmines of monkey poop. They seem to have the ability to hurl that shit with deadly accuracy. Like a game of Poo Bocci Ball. Everyone in the vicinity is a player, like it or lump it. I remember walking over to a group of open-air cages where I saw a giant bird. It was an Emu. I had never seen an Emu. I was amazed at its overall size. The neck on that sucka was as long as I was tall. I stared at it, as it stared back, and I heard its raspy breathing. I realized that it had a long way to pull that air from its mouth into its lungs and stood daydreaming for a moment as it decided weather or not to lean that ten-foot pole with a head on it over the wall and peck me. Just then I heard some woman standing at the cage next to me scream. I looked over at what she was looking at, and I needed a moment. What I was seeing, but not believing, was a goat. It was just standing at the wall looking at the woman trying to coax it over. I thought to myself, that woman is being ridiculous. No goat is going to come to you without food. Then I looked up at the rest of the cage. There was a Hippo in the same cage. There was a Hippo in the same cage? Dat can't be! I have no degree in Animal Husbandry, but I know when one plus one equals "There can be only one!" About the same time I saw the hippo, the hippo saw the goat. That was the beginning of a nature show I had no interest in watching, but couldn't unglue my eyes from the cage. The hippo charged at the goat (that had jumped into the hippo cage from the back "goat" area) making a strange guttural sound. The goat barely escaped the initial charge and ran around the cement pool and up the hill to the hippo's feeding area. The hippo charged up and cornered the goat in the chain-link, fenced-in area. The hippo lunged and sank its teeth into the fence, the goat narrowly escaping its fate. The hippos teeth were lodged into the mesh of metal and it began to squeal. The goat hauled ass back down by the pool, and the crowd went wild with screams for the goat. It was like a Superbowl game. The Hilo Goats vs. The Zimbabwe Hippos. When the hippo dislodged himself from the fence, he headed straight back down the hill for the goat. The goat was looking at all the people when the hippo came up from behind and lunged. It zigged and zagged and beat out the grey terror once again. The crowd sighed in unison. Then it tried to go back up the hill again, but the hippo had a running start and cut him off. The goat, this time, attempted to jump the pool. It missed by half its body. That was the part the hippo decided to bite. With one snap of its powerful jaws, the hippo opened up that goat like it was a pinata. After the initial attack, the hippo went into stealth mode and dropped down in the water, leaving only its eyes and ears above the surface. My eyes were bigger than saucers. Pili had her face buried in my shirt. The crowd moaned loudly and the kids all started to cry. I stood motionless. The goat was facing me where I stood in the corner. I was the only thing in its line of sight. With all of its internal gerkins floating around it in a red and white tangle, it began to die. It was trying to keep its head above the water, but with the loss of blood being so rapid, it was bound to drown first. What an amazingly shitty way to go. To be bitten in two and yet drown before you can die from your wound? Double whammy. Lord a merzy! As its head drooped lower and it kept trying to raise it, it was looking directly at me. It stared at me, crying out. I could do nothing. I wasn't about to jump the rock wall and pull a Steve Irwin. So I watched the life drain out of that goat as it kept eye contact with me. It finally gave in to the Almighty Goat Sandman and slipped underwater, once and for all. The cries from the goat were so human sounding that I hear them still in my nightmares today. Nothing could duplicate that sound. I never want to hear that again. I have been unfortunate enough to hear it more than once. That is more than enough. I bought a plastic Hippo at the gift shop that day. I also bought a little plastic goat. Those are the only things I will ever need to see to relive that day. Not that I would ever want to. Back to the Snake... So my girlfriend has a snake. She doesn't play with it per se, but she does need to feed it. What do snakes eat? Fuck if I know. But I found out pretty quick. Mice and rats. Now here is my thing. Working for years in the restaurant business, I have had only one stipulation. I will not put a live lobster into a pot of boiling water. I do not have the stomach for it. I have it in writing with all my previous employers. Now, before you go calling me a pussy, know this. I have been a cop and seen some pretty horrendous stuff. I have been first on the scene more times than I can count. I have seen death up-close and personal. I have seen more gore than people should ever see in a lifetime. I have no problem with it. I was wide awake for two of my surgeries and commented on the doctors work as he was knee deep in my flesh. I have seen a man get his arm blown off and delivered a baby in the back of a car. (That was some seriously nasty shit!) I have held pressure on gaping head wounds and pulled someone out of a burning car. I have pointed a gun at the head of a perp and had someone hold one to mine. I am by no means a wuss, I just have a weak spot when it comes to watching something die. I choose to stay away from it if I can. My Achilles heel. So when Diana said she needed to get some mice for her snake to eat, all I could think about was the... well... all of it. I asked if that could be the one thing that had nothing to do with me. "May I please be excused?" She obliged. Great girl. Creepy snake. But as fate would have it, I was with her as we went to get a mouse for it. The mainland has a plethora of pet stores. I figured it was time to stand up and be counted, so I decided to ask for the manager to explain my situation. I looked for the oldest person in the store, hoping that the manager would have more under his belt than acne and a killer ring-tone. I saw a man in the bird cage area and asked if he could direct me to the manager. He said "You're looking at him." I waited for him to finish with his customers and then he approached me. "What do you want?" He said. Nice opening line Shakespear... "I was wondering if you could help me with a slight situation I'm having with a snake? I need to feed it, but don't want to feed it anything that is alive. I have a problem with watching something get eaten alive... you know?" "How big is it?" he asked, seemingly unmoved and uninterested. "How you mean?" I said. "Long or wide?" He turned his back and started to walk away. I guess he thought I was being a smart-ass, but I truly didn't know. "I live in Hawaii and we have no snakes there, so..." "What kind of snake is it?" He asked with frustration in his tone. "I don't know." I replied. "Well... how big is it?" He asked again. "What are you, mad at me?" I said. (God I love that one.) Just then Diana came around the corner and I pointed at her. "It's a corn snake." She said. "We have frozen." He said. "But he ain't gonna eat it!" Diana looked at me and I turned to pass the stink eye to someone else. No takers. I said I would wait outside for her to buy the live ones. So she bought a couple of them and judging by the color, the snake likes white meat. Then we left. We got home and I stayed downstairs while the gladiators fought to the death in their glass coliseum cage-match. I may not have my motorcycle over here, but I have found a new name for the snake tank. Thunderdome.