F.O.P (Fresh Off da Plane)

Psycho Killer, Qu'est-ce que c'est? (What is that?)

I kill geckos.

I am not proud of this fact. Please leave me alone, PETA.

I come from a cold-weather climate and am not used to freakin’ reptiles climbing upside down above me and then pooping on my couch. After a too-late night of Law and Order CI reruns, I see them out of the corner of my eye; and every now and then I think my ohana is haunted (However, I also feel that way when the neighbors drag their garbage cans to the curb.). I guess I really need more sleep. 

I know. I know. Geckos are considered lucky. And they are cute, sorta.

The first time I saw one was when I was 18 and at a friend’s family’s summer ranch home in Southern Portugal. If these rich folks didn’t care about a gecko hanging above us, why should I? Bemused, these sophisticated Euros thought I was “so American” for jumping out of my seat in amazement to get a closer look at one of these things. Of course, minutes later, I got the same “so American” comment when I jumped out of my seat in drop-jaw amazement to get a closer look at an Italian game show where the Vanna Whites took their tops off for absolutely no apparent reason (Hey, I was 18.).

I know. I know. Geckos eat bugs, supposedly even cockroaches. I appreciate that. I also understand that because I live in a studio apartment with more cracks than a plumbers’ convention that I will never put an end to their midnight cackles.

We will always be housemates. I welcome it, to a point. They serve a purpose. They were here before me. And most local people seem to respect geckos or least tolerate them. Some even love them.

I’m just trying to make sure it’s not an out-of-control subleasing situation where suddenly my quota gecko roomie or two invite their cousin to crash on the floor after a mate left one of them for a cute coqui frog in Paia. And then suddenly a sister, Lisa, is sleeping in my loft while I’m at work ‘cause she eats ants during the Denny’s third shift. And then Lisa's best friend, Willow, just needs a place until she moves to Bangkok, where she can live for three years on $100. And so on.   

I am not inhumane. I usually trap one with my broom and throw it outside. Or I stun one with a strong rubber band and decent aim (I use the large rubber bands from the County Council agenda packets.).

But when all else fails, I exterminate one with the blade of my Koho hockey stick. It is as quick and painless as possible. I even apologize to their faces, which appear to be smiling even in the throes of death. I feel sad and a little bit silly, like I’m unintentionally acting out a scene from “Dances with Wolves” or “Red Dawn.” I’m honoring my prey. The exception, of course, is that I ain’t eating anything with translucent skin that’s not called calamari and deep fried.

I want to apologize to anyone who is offended by this blog. But in my defense: If I wanted to live with something that crapped in my kitchen, I’d buy a cat.

Mahalo

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Member Comments

View Comments: | 1-5 | Post a comment

thamil
03-07-08 12:56 PM »Report Abuse	All I can think of is the Gecko insurance commercial and that cute, smiling gecko, who is now being brutually attacked by a hockey stick. I'm now scarred for life and not so sure I'll be staying with you when I visit :o) or maybe that was just a ploy to discourage visitors....hmmm.
beachscrat
03-04-08 4:19 PM »Report Abuse	So, I guess I should return the 6 foot neon gecko wall-hanging I got for you entitled "Love in Paradise".... Hater.
beachbumwanabe
03-02-08 4:03 PM »Report Abuse	I'm so glad to hear you've found such intersting "friends" so soon. And you were afraid you would never be able to replace your Minnesota friends.
YoDigg
03-01-08 5:10 PM »Report Abuse	If there is any universal justice you will be reborn as a gecko; because you have that certain je ne c'est pas....attitude of entitlement. Kill on & laugh it up!
Iknowyou
02-29-08 12:10 AM »Report Abuse	More ehs and youbetchas, please. Don't be ashamed of where you come from.

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