Snakes Don’t Die Until the Sun Goes Down

Working in the world of customer service never disappoints. There is an endless supply of crazy people. I have been fortunate over the years to be an observer and instigator of this lot. Most of my interactions in customer service were limited to, yet not to be underestimated, the world of retail. This time around I was working at a bank. I thought I would make more money there than at a store. That’s a myth by the way. Even though I got to touch hundreds of thousands of dollars a day, I still took home minimum wage. If I wasn’t an honest person, I would’ve made a heck of a lot more.
I would spend my down time at the bank counting my money and arranging it in perfect order. I don’t think I’m OCD, but it made me insane if my bills weren’t facing the same way. As for the change facing the same the direction? Well I wouldn’t go that far. Its change for heaven’s sake! That’s a whole other disorder.
I had just gotten engaged over Christmas. I would spend a lot of time staring at my ring. It is super sparkly and I would be obvious with my hand gestures to customers, so they would notice and compliment it. I would day dream a lot too. Yes, I would day dream about my wedding. What it would look like. How I would be the prettiest girl in the whole room. How people would swoon over how happy my fiancé and I would be. Excuse me I know, I vomited a little in my mouth too. Okay what was I saying, daydreams, but mostly I would day dream about my bank being robbed. We would get notices every day from the corporate office with fuzzy pictures of the bank robbers. Detailing where they hit and what they took. They would also provide a list of signs for potential bank robbers and what to do if you are being robbed.
Anytime someone would walk in with a baseball cap, my heart would race. I was so excited I knew this was it! Even better, was when people came in with sunglasses. I would be primping my hair because I wanted to look good for the footage on the nightly news. Who knows maybe they would even interview me. I would look right in the camera, face flushed and wide eyed, “He came in the bank wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses, I knew we were in for trouble!”.
Now what would I do if we were really robbed? I like to think I would be heroic. The robber would come up to my window and slip me a note that says “Be quite and give me all your money gorgeous.” Gorgeous? Hey it’s my day dream stay with me here. I would take the note and slip it into my pocket for evidence and lean forward. I would whisper to him a nobly, “Are you sure you want to do this, you can walk away now?” He would glare and say “No.” By this time I have hit the alarm and back flipped over the counter and have him pinned to the floor. The other bankers have run to my side and are helping me hold him down until the police arrive.
Did you know a teller can get fired if a bank robber takes more than a certain amount from their drawer? Sometimes when I would be over my limit I would look at people coming in with
their baseball caps and think to myself. Now how do I feel about losing my job, to be a hero today?
Well the day I’m going to tell you about didn’t involve any baseball caps, sunglasses or robbers even. Just a very crazy woman from a homestead in the middle of the Dallas/Fort Worth area.
It was a rainy Monday. We had just gotten through with our afternoon rush and I was at my desk arranging my money. A lady entered, wearing nothing but a long thin night dress with no bra. She had no shoes on, her giant bag of purse was thrown carelessly over her broad shoulders and her hair was disheveled falling around her pale face. Did I mention the hospital bands around her wrist? She was gazing around mumbling to herself. Jackpot, I had to help this customer, for pure self-gratification.
“Ma’am I can help you over here!” I didn’t want anyone else to get her. Curiosity was killing me, what was with this woman? I wanted to hear her story! None of the other tellers noticed her as she came shuffling up to my window. How they didn’t notice I have no idea. She looked as out of place as a trash heap in a flower bed.
“I have no idea what’s going on.” She said. Well that was obvious I thought. “How can I help you?” I asked. She really didn’t respond. “Ma’am are you alright?” I inquired.
Her glazed eyes finally met mine and she exclaimed, “I just got out of the hospital!” And cue the crazy. I couldn’t help myself. “You did? Are you okay? What happened?”
Her eyes grew wide as she, not so quietly said, “I was bitten by a snake!”
“Ohh no! That’s horrible!” I said. She considered me for a moment then leaned in closer. “You wanna see?” Oh Lord here it comes I thought to myself. “Yes.” I said. C’mon when someone as crazy as this wants to show you something you always say yes.
She started to lift her night dress and as she got up almost to her knee, I started regretting my answer. She abruptly dropped her night dress and said “Oh never mind, it’s all bandaged up.” I have to admit a wave of relief flooded over me. I still however wanted to know how she was bitten. This had to be a good story.
“So ma’am how did you get bitten by this snake?” I asked. Her eyes perked up a bit and she started to smile. Wow those teeth.
“Well I live out on a homestead…” she said. In my mind I’m thinking, homestead? We live in one of the largest metroplexes in the country. We are right in-between Dallas and Fort Worth, where on earth would a homestead be? And how on earth did you drive here in this condition?
“You see, I was outside roasting goat heads and I needed my wheel’bara to put them in so they wouldn’t burn. My wheel’bara was in my garage, next to one of them hitchin posts ya know? And I had one of em baby pools, ya know ones like you git at the Walmart, caught on top.”
I think my mouth was hanging open during this. This was a lot to process. In my head I’m like, hold the phone. Wait you were roasting goat heads? She said it as casually as I would say, “So I was in my backyard grilling hamburgers.” I maintained my composure with a smile as she continued.
“Well that there baby pool was caught on top and I’m pullin an tuggin and all of a sudden I felt this bite on my leg! I dropped the baby pool and looked down. At first I thought I got stung by a hornet. I’m a tough farm girl, I kin take it, but I saw two gashes with blood streamin down!” she cried. “An that’s when I knew!”
I found myself completely taken in with this story. I’m sure the visuals in my head were more dramatic, but I found myself leaning toward her. “You knew what?” I asked.
“I was bitten by a snake!!” She yelled. I’m fighting back fits of laughter that are building up in my chest and working its way to my shoulders. “Oh no!” I replied. “Then what happened?”
“Well I started yelling for my husband! I said hunny, hunny I got bitten by a snake!” she exclaimed, as she waived her arms in the air with crazy eyes. “Well he came runnin out with his shot gun and found that there snake and shot em. Then cut his head off…” she leans in even closer, not blinking holding my gaze and says, “Cause snakes don’t die until the sun goes down.”
I am completely captivated. This woman is completely nuts. Snakes don’t die until the sun goes down? Is this some weird Texas myth that I have never heard about. I’m speechless for the moment. I don’t want to ask her about snakes and derail the wild ride I’m on, so I just agree with her. “Yes, that’s true, they don’t.” I lie.
“So what happened next?” I ask. I can’t help it this is too fun.
“Well my husband rushed me to the hospital, and I almost died!!” she yelled.
“How did you know that you almost died?” I asked.
“I shit myself!” she exclaimed.
How I maintained a straight face at that moment I will never know. I looked around to see if anyone was witnessing this conversation. Everyone was going about their daily business. How on earth are people missing this?!
All I could muster up without laughing was “Oh my!”
“Yeah and when I git to that hospital, they had to give me all them anti-serums in the whole hospital!” she said. Her eyes are wide and she is breathing heavy at this point. Both of her hands are gripping my desk. She looked completely coo coo for coco puffs.
She is still staring at me dead pan in the face. “You wanna see it?”
Oh my goodness. No way! Please God, tell me she doesn’t have that dead snake in her purse. That is just crazy. I will scream. Probably not the best thing to do in a bank. But curiosity crept over me again. “Yeah.” I said hesitantly.
She picks her giant purse off the floor and places it on the desk. My heart is racing as she slowly unzips the top. She then reaches inside and pulls out a bunch of photocopies. Holy crap, they totally photocopied a dead snake. That is amazing.
She then begins to arrange the copies on my desk into the snake. I have to admit, it was a pretty big and scary looking.
“Wow.” I said, “That’s a big one.”
She gathered up all her papers and asked for her balance. I handed her the balance. As she reads it she says, “Oh good I gots money, good fir me.” Her eyes become unfocused again and looks off into space as she pats her own back.
“Well I’m glad you’re okay now.” I calmly said. “Did you just get out of the hospital today?”
“No.” she said “I got out a couple weeks ago.” She then grabs her purse tosses it back over her shoulder and continues to shuffle away. Murmuring again, “I have no idea what’s going on.”
I never saw that lady again. I wonder if she made it back to her homestead alright? I wonder if she ever figured out “what was going on”? But I will always remember that snakes don’t die until the sun goes down.