I’m on a bit of a pro-snake track today, since it’s St. Patrick’s Day and snakes are on everybody’s minds.
Explain to me how this makes any kind of sense. A guy relates the story behind his ophidiophobia.
Here’s the short version. Guy is in 7th grade. Guy has a 9th grader friend who finds a snake and decides to pick it up and put it around his neck. Snake slithers into the kid’s short and bites him on the dick. After some struggle, the kid manages to pry the (actual) snake from his (trouser) snake and then proceeds to stomp it to death. The kid goes on to “accept the bite marks as a badge of honor” and our author is scared for life.
The snake, by the way? Harmless garter snake. Yeah, I’m real glad that your friend killed a snake for engaging in a natural response to a perceived threat and now you are the one scarred for life. That makes perfect sense to me. No, really. It’s just like that time I was doing something stupid and then suffered perfectly reasonable consequences and then had a completely irrational reaction to those consequences. Yup.