tweakstick
05-15-2021, 11:02 AM
Ok, this one is just weird.
We're at Niggmart last night. A necessary evil, but there we were. We're in the garden supply section alone when I hear the dreaded "esscuze me surrah." I turned around and he had already caught Mrs. Tweak's attention so there was no ignoring it and walking off.
By this point, I'm trapped in the grey area of natural self preservation instincts and rudeness in front of the wife. While knowing full well the dangers of the coon, she will not allow rudeness on my part if at all avoidable even with niggers. I allow it as she keeps me in check often enough with my problematic brain/mouth disconnect disorder. Her steady calming nature has kept me from numerous situations in the past which could have cost us greatly. She shoots me that look that I know so well and so I turn towards him. I figure that he wasn't going to ask me for money or smokes since we were inside the store so he must have been an actual paying customer and therefore not likely dangerous.
I quickly size him and the situation up as best I can before responding. I notice the following:
-His attire was not gangster but typical of any other Wal Mart custormer. Fairly clean cut, non threatening demeanor, no terribly strong ebonics - so he was coherent enough for a few words.
-Honestly friendly demeanor, not your usual kind of fake friendly with the shifty eyes that are up to no good.
-Look of exasperation/desperation. Clearly and honestly needing help of some sort.
-His eyes were bloodshot. Not surprising as almost every nigger we pass in a store nowadays reeks of that medicinal grade hydroponic skunkweed that all the local niggers seem to enjoy so much. Ok, no big deal, at least it's not the usual BO smell. This means he's mellow and not as likely to chimpout as much as he is to ask me what aisle the chips are on.
-His buggy was stocked with an odd assortment: 6 huge boxes of mothballs, some unknown chemicals from the garden center (couldn't see them), various small garden tools and flashlights.
He proceeds to ask me if I know any good exterminators. Given the contents of his buggy, I had no clue where he was going with this. I told him the name of our termite contractor - a local family business. He replied they don't deal with his problem and that animal control told him they wouldn't help him either.
OK, now my curiosity is peaked and I asked him what the problem was. He replied that he had snakes. In his attic. IN HIS ATTIC!!!
I was taken aback to say the least. I told him snakes just don't generally do this. They are cold blooded and must move as needed to achieve the temperature they want/need for whatever they are doing at the time (sleeping, eating, hunting etc.) A 120+ degree New Orleans attic is just not where they would choose to live as a home.
He assured me that they were indeed nesting there and that he had found hatched eggshells. He then produced his sail foam as proof where he had caught and killed "the small one." The picture didn't lie. It showed him standing next to a 4' long shovel laying on the ground. Stretched out next to the shovel was a bloody mess of a snake well over 5' long. He then showed me the picture of his soffit vents (or what was left of them). He had ripped them out in a frenzy trying to find the snake that he saw making it's way into the attic as it crawled up the brick wall. He managed to grab it by it's tail and throw it to the ground in the process where he proceeded to pound it to goodness with the shovel.
He said his daughters were terrified and couldn't sleep and that he owned the house (I know - crazy, right?) so there was no landlord to call and fix the snake situation.
I asked him "If this was the small one, how much longer is the big one?" His response was that it was at least two feet longer.
At this point, it was taking everything I had not to burst out laughing especially since my mouth was already fully agape at the entire situation. I literally had to facepalm for a minute to stifle and compose myself while staring through my fingers at the floor tiles trying to think of what to say to this poor schmuck.
Finally, I told him that if they are nesting in his attic, they were there for a good reason and it's always food and shelter and he needed to find what they were eating.
There are a few things certain about pest animals in NOLA:
We have fire ants. They are imported.
We have Formosan termites. They are imported.
We have nutria. They are imported.
We have niggers. They are obviously imported as well. None of these were his problem. The last is our problem but hey, whatcha gonna do?...
Lastly, we have rats. Millions upon millions of them. They are native and they are everywhere. They don't care what your neighborhood looks like. They are there! If they can get in the attic or anywhere else in your house, they will. A couple of years ago, there was a local couple who's newborn baby was attacked and partially eaten by them while they slept unaware in the next room. No shit, that happened.
I told they guy he probably has them and he needed to get rid of them and that the moth balls would likely not deter them or the snakes anymore than anything else in his buggy.
He thanked me for my advice, we wished him good luck and went about our trip. We passed him a few minutes later with a nearly empty buggy so he must have listened to me.
I wonder if he found the rat poison.
We're at Niggmart last night. A necessary evil, but there we were. We're in the garden supply section alone when I hear the dreaded "esscuze me surrah." I turned around and he had already caught Mrs. Tweak's attention so there was no ignoring it and walking off.
By this point, I'm trapped in the grey area of natural self preservation instincts and rudeness in front of the wife. While knowing full well the dangers of the coon, she will not allow rudeness on my part if at all avoidable even with niggers. I allow it as she keeps me in check often enough with my problematic brain/mouth disconnect disorder. Her steady calming nature has kept me from numerous situations in the past which could have cost us greatly. She shoots me that look that I know so well and so I turn towards him. I figure that he wasn't going to ask me for money or smokes since we were inside the store so he must have been an actual paying customer and therefore not likely dangerous.
I quickly size him and the situation up as best I can before responding. I notice the following:
-His attire was not gangster but typical of any other Wal Mart custormer. Fairly clean cut, non threatening demeanor, no terribly strong ebonics - so he was coherent enough for a few words.
-Honestly friendly demeanor, not your usual kind of fake friendly with the shifty eyes that are up to no good.
-Look of exasperation/desperation. Clearly and honestly needing help of some sort.
-His eyes were bloodshot. Not surprising as almost every nigger we pass in a store nowadays reeks of that medicinal grade hydroponic skunkweed that all the local niggers seem to enjoy so much. Ok, no big deal, at least it's not the usual BO smell. This means he's mellow and not as likely to chimpout as much as he is to ask me what aisle the chips are on.
-His buggy was stocked with an odd assortment: 6 huge boxes of mothballs, some unknown chemicals from the garden center (couldn't see them), various small garden tools and flashlights.
He proceeds to ask me if I know any good exterminators. Given the contents of his buggy, I had no clue where he was going with this. I told him the name of our termite contractor - a local family business. He replied they don't deal with his problem and that animal control told him they wouldn't help him either.
OK, now my curiosity is peaked and I asked him what the problem was. He replied that he had snakes. In his attic. IN HIS ATTIC!!!
I was taken aback to say the least. I told him snakes just don't generally do this. They are cold blooded and must move as needed to achieve the temperature they want/need for whatever they are doing at the time (sleeping, eating, hunting etc.) A 120+ degree New Orleans attic is just not where they would choose to live as a home.
He assured me that they were indeed nesting there and that he had found hatched eggshells. He then produced his sail foam as proof where he had caught and killed "the small one." The picture didn't lie. It showed him standing next to a 4' long shovel laying on the ground. Stretched out next to the shovel was a bloody mess of a snake well over 5' long. He then showed me the picture of his soffit vents (or what was left of them). He had ripped them out in a frenzy trying to find the snake that he saw making it's way into the attic as it crawled up the brick wall. He managed to grab it by it's tail and throw it to the ground in the process where he proceeded to pound it to goodness with the shovel.
He said his daughters were terrified and couldn't sleep and that he owned the house (I know - crazy, right?) so there was no landlord to call and fix the snake situation.
I asked him "If this was the small one, how much longer is the big one?" His response was that it was at least two feet longer.
At this point, it was taking everything I had not to burst out laughing especially since my mouth was already fully agape at the entire situation. I literally had to facepalm for a minute to stifle and compose myself while staring through my fingers at the floor tiles trying to think of what to say to this poor schmuck.
Finally, I told him that if they are nesting in his attic, they were there for a good reason and it's always food and shelter and he needed to find what they were eating.
There are a few things certain about pest animals in NOLA:
We have fire ants. They are imported.
We have Formosan termites. They are imported.
We have nutria. They are imported.
We have niggers. They are obviously imported as well. None of these were his problem. The last is our problem but hey, whatcha gonna do?...
Lastly, we have rats. Millions upon millions of them. They are native and they are everywhere. They don't care what your neighborhood looks like. They are there! If they can get in the attic or anywhere else in your house, they will. A couple of years ago, there was a local couple who's newborn baby was attacked and partially eaten by them while they slept unaware in the next room. No shit, that happened.
I told they guy he probably has them and he needed to get rid of them and that the moth balls would likely not deter them or the snakes anymore than anything else in his buggy.
He thanked me for my advice, we wished him good luck and went about our trip. We passed him a few minutes later with a nearly empty buggy so he must have listened to me.
I wonder if he found the rat poison.