Julie Luongo

I often lose things because I’ve placed them an inch from where I usually place them. I then cry for help, which leads to the inevitable comment, ”if it were a snake it would’a bit ya.”

Honestly, I can’t hear that comment enough. It always means someone has found the missing treasure. Well, it means someone in my family has found it because no one else says that. 

I kind of like thinking about being bitten by a snake. They strike so quickly, it probably wouldn’t hurt initially. I imagine it being like those stories people tell about getting stabbed or shot. It’s just a little heat. Then cold. Oh, so cold.

I know it would hurt eventually. I’ve seen pictures of the aftermath. I won’t post them. They’re too gross for my sensibilities. I’m a delicate flower, dammit. I know you’d probably like them. But I live here at this blog, so no deformed snake bite hands.

If bitten, I’d have to suck out the poison. I’d probably muck this up. I always think I can do the survival things I read about. I’m as confident about these abilities as I am about my sense of direction. I have faith even while I drive around a hood that is clearly not my destination but looks vaguely familiar. It usually is familiar, but only because I’ve gotten lost there before.

I tried to pick my kryptonite u-bolt bike lock with a pen cap. I spent hours doing this. I watched a YouTube on it. I roped my sister and her friend into helping. I used every pen in the house.

Here’s the logic that leads to my frustration … someone else did it. So, I’m convinced that I can do it. Now I’m contemplating freon and a ball-peen hammer. I don’t know where to get freon, nor do I have a ball-peen hammer, but I’m sure someone has done this before, so it’ll work.

Maybe I’ll cry for help. Someone will help me and then make a comment like, “easy as pie.” And I’ll be so happy to have my bikes unlocked in time for winter that I’ll go have some pie. I’ll even buy a slice for my friends who helped if I happen to have cash, and face it, what are the chances of that?

I’ve tried to pick other locks before, mostly after I read The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook. I almost broke a bobby pin off in my sister’s back door knob. I worked that thing for so long, the dog got sick of barking at me.  As I was resting, exhausted from the frustration, I noticed the spare key, just sitting out, right in front of my face. If it were a snake…you know, hot, cold…so cold.  

The snake goddess above is from the Goddess Cafe. The bike lock YouTube is not so exciting, but here it is in case you’re curious. Or maybe you think you can do it. If so, come on over. I’ll bake a pie.