My last few posts have been introspective and heavy….so I thought I’d entertain you this week with a story that will make you happy you don’t live in Tropica.
So, imagine my
surprise dismay shock! disgust! when I walked into my bathroom, which is the furthest room away from the walled-in garden of my house it could possibly be, to find a f***ing toloc hanging out behind the toilet. To refresh your memory, it’s a gila monster. Tourists visiting Chichen Itza or Uxmal often stop looking at the pyramids to take pictures of tolocs sunning themselves on the rocks.
Not so nice in your own bathroom.
How does a toloc creep past two cats and a hunter dachsund? Or did it fall down from the bathroom skylight?
And I live alone! No one to yell for, scream for, cry to.
I kept my wits. Keeping my eyes on it I closed my closet door so it couldn’t run in there and hide amongst my shoes…and then closed the bathroom door. Into the living room with a shot of vodka went I.
Who could I call? On a Sunday afternoon? I started calling around and reached my friend Mara, who answered her phone across the peninsula in Playa del Carmen where she was enjoying a beachy weekend. “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you,” she said. Five minutes later this angel called back. “My brother’s worker, Oscar, will be over there sometime later,” she said. Oscar, my unknown saviour.
A few hours later, Oscar’s teenage son and a friend ring the bell, armed with a brown towel, “to throw over the toloc.” A toloc’s tail whips, its bite is strong, its claws can destroy — and they came with a towel. I give them a bucket, a shovel, two barbecue tongs and a plastic bag. For them this is a Sunday afternoon lark.
I stand nervously outside the bathroom door whilst lots of banging goes on. Oscar junior opens the door and says, “It’s not here. It’s gone.” I said, “Oh yes it is. Hiding. Start poking around.” Sure enough, the toloc had hidden itself in a pile of folded clean towels. After a struggle they got it into a plastic bag and tossed it into the trunk of their car and drove off. They would throw it in the monte from the highway. I tipped them very nicely.
Bathroom’s a mess. Towels all over the place. Toloc shit on the shower floor. My sanctuary invaded. Living alone
sucks is not for sissies.
Not a happy camper. This toloc is yet one more nail in the tropical coffin. But it’s a new week and I’ve got a long list of things to do, papers to take care of, people to see.
Everyone has something that happens in their home that causes total breakdown of nerve. What’s yours? Doesn’t have to be caused by a living thing. Do entertain us in the comments box below!
Wishes for a happy week everyone!
P.S. Btw, I live in the city, not in the wild countryside.
Hello my lovelies! I always laugh at the tourists snapping photographs of tolocs when they vacation in Tropica. If they only knew. Do say hi in the comments box below. We love the chit chat. And if you enjoy being part of a community of super cool, witty, wise women, enter your email in the box above so you don’t miss a thing.