big.banana.slug

Whoa.

I found this big guy while I was out hiking in Butano Park in Pescadero.

I have a story to tell. It's about me and a slug. I have to warn you, it does not have a happy ending. Don't judge me.

When I was in high school my hair was permed, teased, hairsprayed, and stood out so stiff that my bangs could have dammed up the Niagara Falls. One hot sticky summer night I was hanging out with a group of friends. I was dressed to impress in my skintight Jordache jean shorts, trying to woo the locals. The moon was full. The night was dark. The grass was wet from an evening thunderstorm.

I remember bending down to pull up my socks...and my hand touched something wet and slimy in the dark. I SCREAMED......eeeewww, it was slug! On my sock! I still shudder to think of what could have happened if it had slugged up on my leg...

I digress.

My piercing scream got everyone's attention. We got some light and huddled around the culprit, who was now lying on the grass after being flicked off my sock. Someone (Bobby? Mike? Mark?) suggested killing it by putting salt on it. I had never heard of such a thing...but before I knew it, the poor, innocent, sock-loving slug was writhing in salty pain.

I know. I'm an awful, horrible person. Last week I told you I killed my orchid, and now this. This happened over 20 years ago, and trust me, I still feel the guilt.

I don't know what else to say. If would be happy to spend the rest of my life worshiping the great slug goddess if one existed.

And I promise I will never eat escargot.

Now I'm going to go eat a banana.