June 24, 2010

The One About the Lizard


This story will best be told by bulletpoints:

  • Upon getting off at my exit on I95, I decide to call Danielle Cervone (nee Harth) to shoot the shit for about five minutes until I get home.
  • I pull into my garage and open the door (through the garage like I normally do) which puts me directly into the kitchen.
  • Directly in my line of sight is a lizard, perched in front of the dishwasher, next to the rug in front of the sink.
  • Still on the phone, I begin freaking out now, as I have to walk past this lizard to get to other side of the house to tend to the beeping alarm for which I only have one minute to reach and enter the proper code.
  • I take too long to think about my next step since I’m petrified of walking past this lizard and, the alarm fully starts blaring.  I run to the alarm like a little bitch, enter the code and upon the comforting silence, tell Danielle that I need to go figure out what I’m going to do now and that I’d call her later.
  • I call my  boyfriend.  No answer. I called him again. No answer.  I didn’t want to leave the house and go shopping (like I did the last time) because I actually had things to do around the house.
  • I go upstairs to get a shoebox (at the earlier suggestion of Harth) and bring it downstairs, determined to figure out a way to put the shoebox over this lizard.
  • house
  • I stand behind the counter and sheepishly look around the corner to see if the lizard is still there.  It is.
  • I contemplate climbing on the counter and just letting the shoebox fall on top of the lizard. I decide against it.
  • The houseline rings; I answer it.  It’s Chris from Broadband Security.  Broadband Security, if you pay attention to commercials,  are the beasts of the business. They’re the ones with the advertising campaigns where your best friends for life break into your house after leaving your dinner party and like, try to rape you, ok?  Like, they’re no joke.
  • I tell Chris that I didn’t get to the alarm in time, and break down by letting him know there’s a lizard in my kitchen and I don’t know what to do about it.  He doesn’t care about my lizard.  He wants to know the secret password. I tell him I just moved to this house. I don’t have a secret password to the alarm. Call my boyfriend. He’ll vouch for everything.  There’s no burglar.  Just a lizard.  Thanks for the check-in. Gotta go.
  • So I’m back with the shoebox, standing in the living room just contemplating what the hell I’m going to do.
  • I decide to smoke a cigarette.  I walk to the front door to avoid any contact with the lizard and stand in my driveway, smoke a cigarette and continue to harass my boyfriend, who is still not answering my calls.
  • I live in a gated community and from the driveway, I can see there is a sheriff vehicle at the gate.  Since there aren’t normally any police offers around these parts, I knew that Chris from Broadband sold me out and sent along Johnny Judicial.
  • Sure enough, the cop pulls right up to my house, as I litter a cigarette butt into the street.  I introduced myself, shook his hand and told him that this is a misunderstanding. I’m obviously not robbing the house, I just moved here from New Jersey (pointed to my JERZZ license plate as proof) and I simply did not make it to the alarm in time on account of a lizard being in my kitchen.
  • Surprised that he didn’t laugh at me, I invited him inside (through the garage) to surrender over my driver’s license at his request.
  • I told him that I’d give him my license if he got rid of the lizard.  He agreed.  We went inside and I pointed to the lizard.  He asked me if it was dead or alive.  I answered him that I had no fucking clue. I’d never seen a dead lizard. And, they sit still without moving for hours at a time, so there’s no real way to tell.
  • Johnny Judicial moved the rug just enough to let it hit the lizard and … the lizard just slid across the floor. It glided in glory, amidst its rigamortis state.
  • The fucking lizard was dead.  It wasn’t alive. Like, I had just spent a good 45 minutes contemplating what I was going to do with a lizard in my house and the fucking thing was dead.  The ALARM went off. Broadband sent a SHERRIFF over. And the fucking lizard was dead. Ok?
  • So that’s how it went.  Johnny was really into the fact that we both shared the same birthday.  He was also very helpful in telling me what I need to do in order to either volunteer at the Sherriff’s office (something I’ve always wanted to do) or pursue a career in detective work (something else I’ve always wanted to do).
  • We decided that I was cool enough to join him on ride-alongs every now and again, so he gave me his business card and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
  • I was grateful that on the “False Alarm Report” he didn’t put “Stupid girl was afraid of lizard. Ahem – dead lizard. And therefore didn’t make it to the alarm in time to shut it off.”


Anyone know where I can get an “I Heart Florida” bumper sticker?