Snake Girl

Yesterday was a strange day. It started with BW taking a magnificent dump in the bathtub and yours truly almost catching him in the act still making feeble attempts to cover up his dastardly deed. Once again I was dressed and ready to head out the door much like last week when I discovered Spikey’s puking deposit on the bedroom carpet. That time I played dumb and fled the scene of the crime before I could get shanghaied into clean-up duty.

At noon, I fluffed off the gym and was parked in my cozy chair when a frazzled female student rushed in proclaiming she needed assistance with this mysterious rash she had on her neck. As I’m in the IT dept I am rarely called upon for any medical expertise but my vast knowledge of the various specialties of each sector enabled me to direct her toward a more accommodating office. I left her in experienced hands who urged her to visit the local physician.

Yesterday evening, a tribute band played in our performing arts center and TBC, sis, bro-in-law and I were seated close to the front. Though it pains me to say it, after a similar show several years ago I earned quite the infamous rep after boogying to this band and the moniker, "Wild Thing" was bestowed upon me. While in line before the auditorium opened, several coworkers felt the need to remind me of my past frisky gyrations but I assured them there would be a much more sedate Ms. Circe in attendance on this night. I feel certain they were disappointed. Indeed I was a paragon of virtue, but the same could not be said for all members of the spirited audience. As entertaining as the show was, several students in the front row put a diverting show of their own by making sophomoric asses of themselves with silly dancing and occasional heckling. By far the most distracting exhibition was the snockered coed I nicknamed "Snake Girl". Her continuous arm movements could best be described as slithering as all eyes watched her either swaying to the music, draped across the edge of the stage, bowing to the audience, or yelling out incoherent gibberish. At one point when both her arms were raised in the air (and oddly no music was playing), one of the guitarists glanced at her and yelled, "touchdown!" Odds are she’ll be summoned to the dean’s office today. During our absorbing confinement, a thin, white blanket of snow fell and continued to wend its way earthward from the darkened skies. An ideal ending to a peculiar day.