Some people are naturally optimistic and trusting, like newborn baby deer taking their first steps, wide-eyed and shaky, but never thinking that any minute someone in an orange vest is going to aim and shoot to make them into chili. Other people are more cynical, or smart and good-looking, as I like to refer to it. Wes and I have had the same “discussion” over the years about optimism versus
pessimism realism. In case you too are confused, let me explain. A pessimist believes that bad things WILL happen so you might as well prepare for them. A realist believes that bad things COULD happen so it’s best to be prepared. An optimist believes that the world is made of puppies and brownies and never thinks they will end up as deer chili.
An optimist never expects to be betrayed by a friend, but a realist knows…it could happen. I am such realist. And yet, even though I am that person, even though I carry band aids with me at all times, even though when it snows I mentally go through what I would do if I got stuck in my car (yes I know I live in Texas and the chances of this are small but SHUT YOUR MOUTHS OPTIMISTS because ya’ll will be the first ones to go), I still never anticipated that my closest friend would callously try to kill me in cold reptilian blood.
This past weekend I went on a girls weekend trip with my accountability group out to Canton. We stayed at a house in Terrell on friday night, and hit Canton on saturday. Now, I knew ahead of time that there might be some form of retribution for a slight prank I played on my friend Kris. Right now my laptop is broken, so Kris has lent me hers for a few weeks. About a week ago, I realized that she was still logged in on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest. I’ll admit, I briefly thought about tweeting from her account or changing her Facebook status, but I am not a child, people. I am totes above that kind of tom foolery. Instead, I pinned multiple pictures of Amish stuff to her Pinterest page. And maybe followed a bunch of Amish people. I mean, seriously, how Amish could they really be if they have a Pinterest page?? Kris grew up in somewhat of an Amish culture, so I like to tease her about it, and this was my way of showing my love. So if you think about it, it wasn’t really a prank at all, it was more like I was taking time out of my busy schedule to pin things that I thought she might enjoy and might remind her of her childhood. It was more like making her a scrapbook, really. Like a tribute. Like a lifetime achievement award.
But no good deed goes unpunished apparently…
So friday comes and we are hanging out at the house, and Kris and I decide to go on a bike ride around Terrell. We ride around these gorgeous historic neighborhoods, and decide to ride around a park before heading back to the house. Looking back, I realize that this is the moment where Kris decided to throw away 10 years of friendship and do me in. The weather was perfect, sunny and the breeze blowing through my hair, the sounds of happy optimistic birds chirping, when all of a sudden, I look up just in time to see an enormous black mamba snake lunging at me from the field. It might have been a cobra. Hard to tell really. I screamed and stopped my bike, as Kris rode past me, laughing maniacally and looking over her shoulder to see if her little plan worked. I looked down at the beast, and made eye contact with it. It looked right at me and hissed “KRIS HIRED ME TO KILLLLLL YOUUUUUUU”
I knew it.
Of course, she acted all innocent. “Oh gosh, are you okay? You are really scared, aren’t you? It’s okay, it won’t hurt you” as she tried to pick it up and throw it at me so it would eat my face off. I guess she knew the jig was up and I was hip to her jive, because she got off her bike to “check on me” and then said “it’s really cool looking” and then tried to poke it with a stick as to further infuriate it because that seems like a wise plan. I cried and pleaded for my life- “IT WAS ONLY SOME AMISH STUFF KRIS!!!” but she paid me no mind. She just kept stepping closer to it, and trying to convince me to do the same. Sorry friend, I don’t know what they teach you in Amish whittling school, but in the mean streets of San Antonio where I grew up, we knew not to mess with giant boa constrictors.
I guess she decided that day wasn’t going to work out as the day she got her revenge, or maybe she decided what I did wasn’t so terrible as to sic Nagini on me, but it slithered away, tossing a threatening glance over it’s shoulder, as if to warn me that it could come find me at any minute.
So all I’m saying is be an optimist if you want, but don’t come crying to me when your face gets eaten off by a python that your best friend hired because you made fun of her Amish roots.
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