Help Wanted at the Bronx Zoo

While getting dressed for work this morning I happened to catch a newsbyte on TV about a catastrophe that happened this week at the Bronx Zoo.  It seems that one of their cobras has disappeared from its container and is nowhere to be found.  "Not to worry", the newsperson said, "zoo officials have closed down the reptile house until the 20 inch adolescent can be found."  Not to worry, my Aunt Fanny's backside.

What poor sucker is going to have to look for that snake, I mean who are they going to make put that on the top of their list of things to do?  I suspect that on the next day following the great escape a higher percentage than normal of reptile-house employees felt a touch of the rheumatism flare up or had a burrito back up on them so maybe they'd just better  call in sick and stay home.  If I was one of those cage cleaning, copperhead caterers I'd have thought twice about going in to work that day myself.  A cobra, either a "20 inch adolescent"  or a full grown, 8 foot, mean motorscooter is going to kill you dead as a ballpeen hammer if it bites you unless you've got a pocket full of anti-venom right close by.  I've seen enough shots of New York traffic on TV to know that you've probably got a better chance of finding a clearance table at Tiffany's than you do of getting from the Bronx Zoo to a hospital that's got a vial of cobra anti-venom sitting and waiting on you to wheel in.  If I was a betting woman, and I'm not, but if I was, I'd lay odds on that cobra living to see another day and you becoming worm food if you happen to be the employee who runs up on that thing and surprises it.  I don't know much about snakes but I do know that they don't take kindly to being surprised at all.

Yep, I can just see the help wanted sign outside the reptile house about now:  "Wanted, one Cobra Hunter, advantageous to be single, preferably with no next of kin (and few aspirations of advancement because this could very well be a dead-end job.")   Watch where you step in The Big Apple!