By ALEXI VENICE-
I kid you not. True story. No exaggeration.
Remember when you were a kid, and you were afraid to stand by the edge of your bed with your toes sticking underneath because you pictured a monster under there waiting to bite you? A monster with jagged fangs and globs of green snot hanging from his nose? A poisonous monster? Well, guess what? I learned in Belize that the monster is fucking real. I will never slide my toes under the bed or a bathroom counter in that country ever, ever again.
While we were staying at a well-known, reputable resort, I awoke and walked into the tiled bathroom (not a dirt floor). I was buck-naked, hence vulnerable. I know you have this graphic image of my nakedness in your head now, and I’m sorry, but my nakedness is a necessary element of the story. And, yes—for those of you wondering—my tits are real. No implants. I felt the need to clarify this because people have been asking lately, you know? I’m thinking of including some FAQs on my blog site, and these-tits-are-real might be one of the answers.
So, back in the bathroom in Belize. My toe barely touched the white bathmat in front of the toilet, and a crustacean scurried out from underneath, ran within two inches of my foot, and ducked behind the toilet. I screamed and yelled, “Bill! Come in here!”
Without knowing how I got up there, I found myself sitting on the counter, to the left of the fridge, knees tucked under my chin, staring at the black crustacean in the corner.
In sub second time, my mind processed the fast-moving threat:
Gecko? Nope. Not a lizard. That’s what I was hoping for.
Roach? Nope. Wrong shape. Too big and tail curled up.
Spider? Yikes! Nope. That would’ve been scary because large, black, hairy spiders can move FAST and are fucking killers! I always picture one attaching to my face! I quickly concluded it wasn’t a spider.
Scorpion? Bingo! Tail beaded and curled up. Front pincers like a crab’s! Yowzah! Poisonous? Yep! Its venom is deadly.
This is a pic from the internet I found when I later Googled what I had seen. Perfect likeness of what was in our bathroom. For you doubters: Are you fucking insane that I would jump down from the counter, run to get my iPhone, and race back into the bathroom to get a pic or video of a deadly scorpion? I was paralyzed with fear.
Bill yelled from the bed. “What is it?”
I’m thinking, Seriously?! You can’t tell by the tone of my scream that this is an emergency? But I said, “A real scorpion behind the toilet!”
He took the time to dress, including putting on shoes. (I can understand this given that we’re unfamiliar with a scorpion’s speed, agility and ability to jump up on Bill’s body and possibly sting him in the private parts.) He arrived with the umbrella in hand—the only thing resembling a weapon in our room—neatly folded and the silver tip pointed toward the toilet.
Had I not been terrified, I might have thought to ask Bill to bring my phone in with him, so I could video what was about to unfold. Unfortunately, I failed to get live video for this blog post. Rest assured, I will be carrying my phone with me at all times from now on.
Once Bill was in the bathroom, I jumped off the counter and ran out behind him.
My knight in shining armor saved me from the scorpion by spearing it then flushing it down the toilet. My Valentine’s Day hero! Thank you, Bill! (I know some of you animal lovers are cursing us for killing the scorpion. I went through the same thought process. I concluded that I would share a room with a gecko or an iguana but not a scorpion. You can die from a scorpion sting.)
The remainder of the trip, whenever I entered the bathroom, I turned on the light and scanned the floor and corners for poisonous critters. When standing at the counter to brush my teeth, I stayed a foot back, never letting my toes get near the bottom of the cupboard. And, in the middle of the night when I had to pee, I pictured the scorpion swimming up from the pipes to re-enter the toilet bowl and bite me in my unmentionables. (I know this is irrational but the experience played tricks with my mind at 3am!)
I’m not even going to tell you about the nasty, mystical flies that flew out of Mayan tombs to bite our legs when we visited the bloodletting site of Nim Li Puuit (which means “big hat” in Mayan). I think those ancient people (circa 400 A.D.) crammed fly larvae into the King’s big hat when they buried him to ward off would-be grave robbers. Now the flies have hatched and arrived in swarms on us. They drew blood on my legs, which is appropriate for the bloodletting site, I suppose. (Face it: Those ancient people were smarter than we give them credit for.)
Our legs were basically raw hamburger for the flies. After a day like that, playing cards and drinking wine on our friend’s patio overlooking the beach was a must! The sign on the back of her bathroom door summed it up nicely.
Despite the white, sandy beaches and warm water, I admit I was happy to leave after one week. Buh-bye, fucking scorpions and flies! Here’s a video of us flying out.