My New Pet

I have a pet lizard, now.

As I mentioned a while back, I deliberately left my patio door open for a couple of hours last week. The result of this was a whole bunch of bugs and lizards entering my apartment. Now, thanks to a warming trend here in Tampa, most of those bugs and lizards have since returned to their rightful place outside. However, one little guy has decided to stick around.

He’s kind of a curious bugger, too.

For those of you that don’t know, little gecko lizards are about as common in south and central Florida as sunshine, Spanish speakers and pot. Dogs and cats constantly eat these lizards and get sick as a result. Because of this, there is a gecko-lizard-removal niche market in Florida. Now, I would never subscribe to such a thing; I just wanted you northerners to understand how common these fucking lizards are. And now that I feel I have accomplished my goal, I figure I’ll move on to the next paragraph (oh yeah, this piece is cruising towards making a point—I’m talking light speed here, baby).

Monday morning, I woke up, showered, dressed, reached to grab my wallet off the coffee table and accidentally sent a lizard flying across the room (he was sitting on my keys and I didn’t see him). He looked kind of pissed as he scurried behind the couch.

Since then, I have seen this lizard a number of times. He makes his presence known every time I turn on something electronic, like my computer or television. Like most lizards, he likes to hang out on walls, doorframes and window sills.

Because I am a white man of European decent (and redundant nature), I have decided that I own this lizard, that he is now my pet (even though I have no plans to feed him or take care of him in any way shy of not killing the little guy) and as such, I must give him a name.

And his name is Anthony Reyes. I call him, Tony, for short.

Last night, after drinking heavily, I returned to my apartment where one of my neighbors, a cute female named Luanne, decided to stop by (in her incredibly original sexy cat costume). She’s been having problems with her ex-boyfriend and blah blah fucking blah. Anyway, while she was babbling and I was getting a beer, little Tony crawled up the TV and made his presence known.

“Umm… Nate,” said Luanne.

“Yeah,” I called from the kitchen.

“There’s a lizard on your TV.”

“Cool,” I said and I ran into the living room. “Watch what happens when you turn it on.”

I turned the TV on and Tony ran up the screen, jumped up to the wall and stuck like glue or something equally adhesive.

“He’s pretty cool, huh? His name is Tony.”

“You’re… you’re like the strangest hot guy I’ve ever met.”

And that was my cue to do what we all love to do.

Thanks for the help, Tony. You’re the lizard, little dude. You’re the lizard.