No. I’m having fun. Now carry me to the kitchen and get me a glass of OJ.
I feel like there are some particular spectacles that are unique to working at a pet shop. Just to name a few…
- A rat with a cold
- A rat with its face chewed off
- A rat chewed in half
- A scorpion eating a cricket
- A mouse hugging a rat in sleep
- A cricket pulled three ways by three anoles
- A tarantula dance
- A kitten with a vendetta against water dishes
- A cockatoo madly in love with an old man
- A mouse who insists on sleeping with the hampsters
- A rabbit who will stop at NOTHING to be with his lady types
- My own hand covered in snake, ferret, and mouse bites all at the same time
Those are just a few of the ANIMAL stories; never mind the PEOPLE.
I got hit on at work today. Thrice. What is this madness? I looked like a small mound of guano today. Like, I practically had guano smeared all across my face after cleaning out the back animal cages. Is that what males find attractive here in Ohio? Guano face?
Maybe only Ohio boys who frequent shady pet shops. Each one of these lads was impressed by my ability to capture food items such as mice and feeder fish for their reptiles. Is that a turn on?
One of these incidents resulted in a phone number making its way into my pocket. His name is Bill, and he has Ball Pythons. That is the extent of my knowledge of him. What am I supposed to do now?
I… I think I see you now.
Yes… yes! That’s your wit shining in the darkness. It’s… OVERPOWERING.
I just unwittingly stumbled into the dark recesses of tumblr and discovered something terrifying. Sexblog? Is that like, a normal thing? Geeeeeezy.
People of the internet, I officially know too much about you.