Dirty Lizards

Did I mention that I abhor the Xmas crowds?

So anyway, I called up the Pisces, the one looking for a job, and I suggested coffee, maybe lunch, and since we usually shop, might as well do that, too.

We headed south, down to the big box stores, and I wandered aimlessly for a while, coming up with one or two items in the discount places, but not really getting what I was looking for. We stopped by the sporting goods place, and she kept going on and on about one particular handgun, which, after one more store, she was looking into purchasing. Somehow, having me there, made her feel better about retail therapy. Should introduce her to my sister.

I’d forgotten about what happened in one of those giant “pet warehouse” places. I had a little slice of nature, right before my very eyes. In fact, I got a picture of it. Several. I didn’t discover it until I hooked the camera up and downloaded the pictures.

Caution, this is lizard porn.

image

I stopped long enough to notice that there were about three girl lizards, smaller, more svelte, and sensual with their dusky, scaly skin. Then there was one “alpha male,” and I watched. He inflated his throat sac, bleat a moment, then grabbed on of the girls by the nape of her neck. Then he jumped on top of her.

By now, realizing that this was like a nature documentary, dramatic union, right before my eyes, I slipped the camera out of my pocket, and clicked it on. I held the camera up and got a picture of that guy in action. Then, in his post-coital bliss, I adjusted the camera, steadied it against the cage’s window, and snapped a couple of more shots.

A store clerk came up, a little alarmed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s cool, see, that guy? He just…” and I looked at the clerk, “Oh never mind. Just cool to watch the lizards.”

“So everything’s okay? No problems?”

None. Except that it looked like the boy lizard was holding the girl lizard’s head under water.

Can’t tell me that a girlfriend or two didn’t want to do that to me.

A few minutes later, I was checking the cat food prices for a certain resident here, and a manager came up to me, “You said there was something wrong with the lizards?”

“Uh, no, see, the one guy was doing this girl, and when he got done, it looked like, oh, never mind,” and I trailed off.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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