Recently, a teacher in our district abruptly resigned her
position. Somehow, her resignation led
to my current possession of a tortoise named Big Al. Yeah, Big Al, this one is for
you. Since you won’t stop fucking
staring at me right now … I am dedicating a post to you. Please stop creeping on me after I publish
this post, you scaly little bastard. If
you like me on facebook over at Not Appropriate Angela, you know that this
tortoise has been the bane of my existence since yesterday afternoon.
Big Al was housed in the classroom of the recently resigned
educator. As her employment ended rather
hastily, there were piles of ungraded papers left behind … and a tortoise that
had been given to her via some educator grant or similar donor. After she left, our entire staff received a
mass e-mail stating that Big Al needed to find a new home, and it needed to be
somewhere NOT in the current building.
The district wasn’t playing; he had about a week to find a different
residence.
Well, you know I’m a sucker for misfits of all sorts – but I
also am totally creeped out by most reptiles. I am terrified of snakes,
lizards, and those big dinosaur looking snapping turtle mother fuckers. One time I encountered a snapping turtle on
the road and it had all sorts of crazy scary spikes on his shell – like Bowser
from Super Mario. I ran like the wind
away from that bastard. Don’t judge;
turtles are much faster than one would imagine.
I might have also screamed like a banshee, but I don’t remember because
my mind blocked out most of this horrifying encounter.
I was torn. I wanted
to rescue the tortoise, but also dreaded him. Therefore, I got my husband involved, and he
agreed to house Big Al in his classroom.
However, my husband does not work in a traditional school. He teaches at a juvenile correctional
facility – that’s a fancy way of saying “kid prison.” His students are all
criminals – and not “I stole a Gameboy and my mom is trying to straighten me
out” criminals; there’s some “I stabbed my pregnant girlfriend to death”
criminals there – really. It’s a rough
environment, but my husband has the perfect temperament for dealing with such
students.
As they are locked up when not in class or counseling, the
students aren’t witness to much wildlife. One time they found a frog while
being escorted between their quarters and the school, and they were thrilled to
have it in the classroom – until it died three days later. I should add that it died of its own accord;
no one shanked the frog or stabbed it with a pencil (although one of these same
students had earlier stabbed a staff member in the throat with a pencil).
I thought the tortoise would be beneficial for this
particular group of students, and both my husband and his boss agreed. The tortoise and those students share much in
common – both have hard shells, and most were born into this rough
exterior. My husband picked up Big Al
yesterday, ready to transport him to his building. Then, he realized that Big Al’s home was a
very large glass terrarium, and this is a problem. This is a problem because glass is not
allowed at this school due to its potential to be shattered and used as a
weapon.
Sam called his boss, and she told him to take the tortoise
home for the weekend until she talked to the head of building security. He was told he should be able to bring him in
Monday, and I sure to shit hope that is true because this fucking tortoise
keeps on staring at me while I write.
Furthermore, while I usually wish for the weekends to last forever, I’m
actually looking forward to the week just to get this damn tortoise off my
kitchen counter.
Last night, while I was attempting to write, he repeatedly
banged his head into one tiny area of the cage.
He may have issues. This is just
one more commonality he would have with those students. He would genuinely be wholly advantageous for
these youth – who generally committed crimes because they never really had a
chance. But, he is NOT good for me –
tortoise is creeping me the fuck out.
Okay, Big Al, are you
happy now? I wrote a whole page for you!
I even praised you. I’m sure you’re actually
quite a respectable reptile, but you do not belong on my kitchen counter. You need to go because it’s never a good
thing when I need to take an extra clonazepam (anxiety medication) because I
got a tortoise creeping on me in my own home.
I know, I know, Big Al, it’s my own propensity for saving others that
led to you looking at me right now. But
I saved you, so show some damn gratitude and quit staring at me tortoise.
Maybe you should try picturing him in his underwear. Although I suppose a leering turtle in tighty whiteies might actually be creepier.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure Big Al is quite pleased with this post and will stop creeping you out now!
ReplyDeleteI'm good with tortoises but snakes, NO WAY! This is hilarious but I don't have Big Al staring me down. But I can see how you'd feel. The best line of this whole story to me.."He may have issues." That was fantastic and probably true if he's doing the head banging thing.
ReplyDeleteGah! I don't think I could handle a tortoise on the kitchen counter! For your sake, I hope he goes to his new home on Monday!
ReplyDeleteyou are hysterical. and i'm SO glad you're one of my rowmies. ;D
ReplyDeleteBig Al is a creepy ass name.
ReplyDelete