Less important than why I was in my garage at 4am on a Thursday is what happened while I was in there.

 

Allow me to preface this by saying that I have been a city boy all my life…and even a bit of a nancypants, for one of those.

 

That said, I am in Western North Carolina for the summer, visiting my parents.

 

So I’m in the garage, at my father’s workbench, and I turn to walk back into the house.

 

I glance past Ogy – their red Smart car – to the wall, and catch a glimpse of this:

 

 

 

 

I immediately freak out.

 

The afternoon previous, I was told a story about how John Judd, Jr., got bit by a copperhead snake, and it was not a pleasant story, on any level.

 

He spotted me quickly and began his retreat.

 

 

 

 

Action had to be taken.

 

And I am a Milleneal.

 

So I took a picture, texting it to my father:

 

 

 

 

But it was useless.

 

I immediately remembered that he keeps his phone silent when he sleeps.

 

This was between me and the snake.

 

 

 

 

As he fled, I looked where he was headed and found what was possibly his point of entry:

 

 

 

 

It was then that I realized that there was nowhere for this snake to go – other than miraculously back out that hole – and that he’d most likely try to hide out somewhere in the garage.

 

Unacceptable.

 

There was no way I was going to subject my mother’s washing machine to more soiled underwear than it was already in store for, by letting someone else encounter it later.

 

Action had to come…but I wasn’t about to hunt it back behind the garbage can, to try to kill it.

 

So I opened the garage door about a foot.

 

 

 

 

He refused my offer to return to the wild, opting, instead, to slink back into the corner behind the garbage can.

 

I grabbed a lengthy pole and stuck it behind the can, to shoo him out.

 

He responded with a hiss.

 

Not a good sign.

 

“Hell,” I thought, “I haven’t been playing video games my entire life to not be able to solve this problem.”

 

So…what would a video game character do…?

 

 

 

 

 

#BuildTheWall

 

Sure enough, he approached, as if to taunt me.

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the clear indications to exit, he raised up a bit, stared at me staring at him, turned, and went back behind the garbage can.

 

“Fine, you little bastard.”

 

“We can do it like that, if you want to.”

 

I looked around the room.

 

Round-Up?

 

Perhaps not.

 

WD-40?

 

That’ll play.

 

I sprayed a bit through the screen, behind the garbage can, and that was all it took.

 

 

 

 

I ran back to the garage door opener, shut the door, and went inside to begin writing this.

 

But not before duct-taping that hole in the wall.

 

Today seems like it may be a good day to bomb the garage with poison gas.

 

Though there are always other options.

 

 

 

 

Everyone be careful out there and have a great (and hopefully snake-free) summer!