Well, today is the fifth anniversary of 9/11. In honor of all who died in that tragic incident, I'm gonna write about an alligator.
Yesterday, after I watched the most despicable Bucs game of the new millennium, I came home, drank a beer and decided to take a little nap so I could rest up for Sunday Night Football. About an hour into my nap, I awoke to find Green Bay getting their butts handed to them by the Bears.
“Wow,” I thought. “It ain't like me to be woken up by my own TV.”
Then I heard a rustling noise and a few loud voices next to my porch.
It's times like this when I wish I owned a gun.
Being slightly more stupid than I am brave, I walked out onto my porch, sans gun, sans shirt and sans shoes. From my porch, I witnessed three of my neighbors using giant sticks to poke at something on the ground near my apartment.
“Well, this is new,” I said.
“Do you live here?” asked one of the gentlemen.
I nodded.
“We got a gator,” said another one of my neighbors.
And sure enough, they were right. A two foot long gator (probably about a year old) had crawled up underneath my apartment. Using a couple of sticks and the gator's own jaw strength, the three gentlemen had managed to capture the gator. They woke me up (shortly after catching him) when they yelled directions to each other as they yanked him out and pulled him through the dirt. One of my neighbors wrapped him in a sheet, put him in a cooler, and used it as a seat (the cooler, not the gator) .
“Well,” said aother one of my neighbors. “That was an adventure.”
I then offered everyone beers. What can I say? I try to be a good host.
When the Animal Control agent arrived, we asked him what he was gonna do with the little gator.
“I'll just throw him back in the pond that he came out of,” was the man's response.
I thought he was kidding, so I laughed.
He wasn't kidding.
The Animal Control agent promptly carried the gator to the pond behind my apartment. He watched happily as the gator swam into the water.
“It doesn't take them long to learn to leave people alone,” said the agent.
He then added, “Usually.”
“Good to know,” I said, before adding, “You want a beer?”
“No thanks,” he said. And he drove off.
“Wow,” said one of my neighbors (I never got these guys' names). “That was surreal. I mean, we could have done that.”
I think you know by now that if you're looking for morals, you're on the wrong site.