Sometimes going to work is like going to camp. I kinda look forward to it, thinking, "What craziness will happen today?"... sometimes I'm disappointed, but today, I was not.
About 10 o'clock today I get a call from a coworker in another department. He says, "Come see my new mascot!" and I, sensing that this will be good, tell him I'll be there right away. I go into his office, and trapped, under one of those plastic domes that come on a spindle of blank CDs, is teeny-tiny gecko. Now, understand that I live in Missouri, and geckos are in No Way native to, well, anywhere in the Midwest. They like warm weather, and we don't really have that. The little guy's scampering around, climbing up the smooth plastic, and in general, charming. But then comes the shocker: "I found him in The Vault!" The Vault is an old, cold storage room that has stacks and stacks of boxes of book files - and, apparently, a gecko. Or in my opinion, a family of geckos, waiting to be found. It’s generally a room where people have to go, maybe, once a week, it’s always deserted when you’re there, and you have to root around in your team's section of shelving to find the box of junk that might have the files you’re looking for in them. I’m afraid the next time I go in there, and I shift some boxes around, I’ll uncover a whole colony of them.
Of course, I immediately claimed the little gecko as mine. Especially after we found out that my coworker’s plan was to release the gecko back into the wild. Into the upcoming cold, snowy winter. Besides, my desk was starting to look lonely….
Over lunch, the girl who sits next to me and I ran to the store and got a terrarium, some "reptile moss", a water dish, and some gecko food. The little guy is now happily hanging out on the roof of his new home. We're calling him T.V., after The Vault.
2 comments:
yeah! go little T.V! I once had a gecko named Mary. She was found in a plant shipped to Home Depot in Cheyenne, Wyoming (also a place where geckos are NOT natives), and somehow she made her way to me. Unfortunately, unbeknowst to the family, Mary was an escape artist. After two months of obediently living in her chillin' aquarium, she decided to run around the house for a week. I thought she was dead, so I jumped for joy when she was found alive ... only to have her escape a week later and get eaten by the dog.
T.V., don't run away! You'll get all the crickets you can eat.
I was told that it was a necessity to comment and so I am. I'm really excited about this blog. I only hope that the originality of the stories can be kept up because it seems to me that after finding a gecko at work, it's all downhill from there.
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