I got up to get a closer look and assess the situation. The lizard, about an inch long, was on the wall behind my bookshelf and seemed to be suffering from sort of anxiety attack. I thought I could just grab it, take it outside, release it into the wild, and everything would be fanfreakintastic. There were some things wrong with this plan though. Okay, really just one thing, and that would be that I could not bring myself to touch a lizard. Hey, I’m fragile, I’m like a delicate flower – and I will kick anyone’s ass who says otherwise. Right then, on to Plan B.
Plan B was a carefully thought out plan that involved me, a spatula, and a pan with an ill-fitting lid. Toastcrumbs: Master Strategizer. I tried valiantly to spatulatize the little fella into the pan, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t having it. He kept running along the wall, eventually settling on the window screen. Okay little lizard, so that’s how we’re going to play it. I took a deep breath and pulled open the blinds. Aha! Got you now, there’s no escaping. Except he jumped at me. Oh crap. That was certainly unexpected in the sense that it made me scream and fall backwards over my couch – an event which the tenants of the building 10 feet outside my window all got to witness. I’m nothing if not entertaining to the neighborhood.
Of course by this time, the little lizard had disappeared. I started moving all my furniture, rolling up the rug, constantly scanning the floor for a lizard. Unfortunately they have that whole chameleon-like thing happening – as chameleons tend to do – which ok, so not helping the situation. What to do, what to do. I went and found Siamese Cat who was hiding in the hole in the wall (you're jealous of my kick-ass apartment, right?) behind the bench in the kitchen as he often does when I start screaming while wielding spatulas. My plan was to have Siamese Cat locate the lizard, then I would swoop in with my capture and release into the wild portion of the plan. I guess I didn’t explain the plan well enough to Siamese Cat because he looked around, looked at me, then put his leg over his head so he could start cleaning his butt. Wow, he usually reserves that crowd-pleasing favorite for when company comes over. Dumbass cat.
Thankfully, with the help of a flashlight and 47 minutes of searching, I successfully located the lizard – all part of Plan C. That would be the plan where I threw a cup on top of the lizard and left him on the floor while I recovered from my ordeal. Brutal, I tell you. Now Siamese Cat is all interested in the lizard, or rather he was until I shouted “GET AWAY FROM THAT CUP DUMBASS!” and waved the almighty spatula in his direction. I slid a piece of cardboard under the cup and carried my cup-o-lizard to my desk. He was really cute, go figure – I even took pictures, but my digital camera made it look like a misshapen tootsie rollunder a cup which isn’t all that impressive. I was worried about suffocating the little guy – I don’t kill lizards, only terrorize - so I took him outside and released him into the wild of the grassy area next to the trash dumpster. I’m like a real humanitarian. I hummed the tune to Born Free to myself as I walked away. Touching stuff.
Tonight: fun with a caulk gun. Further entry of lizards into the apartment must cease as I am really not up for that kind of activity on a nightly basis.
*If this story had been about a giant cockroach instead of a lizard, the ending would be somewhat different - I would probably have to leave not only D@vis 1sland, but quite possibly the state of Florid@.
2002-05-30 at 9:20 a.m.