8 minutes
Friends,
Another reptile expo, another story. The hubby is now used to me jotting down notes at shows because he knows there will probably be a blog. I think he’s finally over the embarrassment of knowing I’m a writer and will record, reuse, and regurgitate material I find while wandering the mean streets of the Pacific Northwest.
And this weekend was no different.
Back story
As many of you know or have figured out on your own, my hubby owns a reptile business. What started out as a casual conversation two years ago about getting a snake has led to me harboring 67 of these no-legged, no-arm beasts. Throw in a couple of colorful and deadly spiders, a blind bearded dragon, my Kool Kat Kona Bear (the dog), and my 1200-square-foot home has become a reptile zoo.
At some point, babies do come into existence, and we travel around the PNW, finding them their forever homes. Which means we headed to another reptile expo, and I have another story to tell you.
Where to start
This time, we traveled the choppy waterways of Puget Sound, riding the Washington State Ferry system on a floating city that can hold up to 186 vehicles.
Not my idea of a good time.
It’s not that I don’t trust the whole concept of lowest bidders for maintenance, repairs, and upgrades, but ferries have always seemed somewhat ‘fishy’ to me—no pun intended.
Think about it. It’s a lot of vehicles stacked up on top of each other for a jaunt across the open seas. Two levels of cars, trucks, moving vans, Amazon and FedEx trucks, and a sprinkle of motorcycles—all vying for a spot in an area the size of a small home.
That’s not including the people, dogs, cats, and, in my case, a truck full of exotic animals.
I get nervous every time I get on one.
But I digress. We made the 30-minute crossing safe and sound and were across the murky waters before seasickness could settle in.
Show time
I will bypass the normal overview of what it takes to set up, price, and mentally prepare for another show and dive right into the people. This show took us to the small seaside town of Bremerton, WA, a place known for its military presence, Valentinetti Puppet Museum, and… well, it has a fantastic waffle restaurant.
Not much else is going on in town, but a lot of tourists seem to want to visit it. I found it interesting that the mall was connected to a grocery store. It’s not something that you see every day, but seeing as I live in a town that doesn’t have a mall, it was cool to walk through the aisles.
Small town, big sales.
This means that even for a small seaside town, we had a good chance of attracting a large turnout. There wasn’t much else going on. I heard there was a Viking festival, but I couldn’t find it.
Disappointing! Who doesn’t want to spend an evening at a Viking festival?
It was a very successful reptile expo for us. The Kitsap Sun Pavilion is a smaller venue with fewer vendors and more customers. Because it was spaced out and quiet, we had the time to talk to new reptile owners and explain what it takes to own a snake, spider, or iguana.
It was awesome! People left our table feeling confident that they knew what they were doing and that they could contact us with any questions or concerns.
Usually by way of text messaging 20 minutes after they get back home.
Which honestly, makes us feel better because there are typically photos involved. And we love talking to people – so it’s a win-win.
The people.
Reptile shows attract a wide array of people, from the wealthy to the free-spirited. At any given time, we can have anyone at our table—lawyers, doctors, high school students, construction workers, dental hygienists, and exhausted parents with three toddlers.
My favorite is kids under 12 who still have the pure joy of seeing animals up close and personal that they typically won’t find in the neighborhood pet store. Kids are the best!
Except for the ones who tap the glass like they are in a Harry Potter movie and waiting for an invitation to Hogwarts.
Those aren’t my favorites.
Furry Community
I am all about people expressing themselves. Be you authentically. Dress up as a pirate, Tinkerbell, Strawberry Shortcake, and everything in between. It’s a reptile show, for Pete’s sake. We all straddle the line of insanity.
But what is challenging for me, even if I support freedom of expression, is the furry community. Men, women, and children in full-on costumes channeling their inner animals. Anywhere from lions, bears, and tigers (oh my!).
And these are not your typical Halloween costumes with tails and ears. No, they are people who take their inner beasts and humanize them with extreme outfits, masks, and eyelashes.
When I say masks, I mean slip-on 5-pound masks that completely hide the person’s identity behind the fake fangs.
It’s not the person
I’m sure that the person behind the character is a great person. Fun-loving, creative, and well-rounded people who rarely get to venture out in person to a place that accepts them for who they are.
My problem is that I don’t understand them.
Not metaphorically.
I mean, I can’t actually understand them.
Their masks are so large that they muffle their voices, and I can’t hear what the hell they are saying.
When they dance over to my table, I groan internally. I know that I am about to play a weird game of charades, trying to figure out what snake or spider they are pointing to because we are not about to have a meaningful conversation.
Talk about the potential for miscommunication. Which is NOT good at a reptile expo.
It’s the hands. (Paws?)
Most furries go full out, and I mean full out. Not only am I competing with the muffled voices of a person behind the igloo-sized mask, but they wear paws—black bear-size paws, complete with fake claws, sometimes even painted a lovely shade of blood red.
Not scary at all.
Try having a paw reaching over the table to take a business card. I dare you. I don’t know if I should run or play along. My fight-or-flight instincts are on high alert, and I start sweating. Where do I put the card? Their hands can’t close! Do I slip it in between the ‘fingers?’ Do I slide it up their shirt sleeves?
I am so confused.
Nope- it’s the Furry mask.
Here’s the thing. Once again, I am not being rude or malice to anyone who can spend hours dancing around a hot venue in a 15-pound costume. I give you props, but I don’t know who the hell you are.
Without being able to see your eyes, I can’t determine if you have the best intentions for my snakes. And I don’t know if you fully comprehend the lengthy list of instructions for properly caring for my noodles of fangs.
On top of that, are you even old enough to buy a reptile? For all I know, you are a 12-year-old who stole your mom’s credit card and is about to max it out. I might end up sued for an illegal transaction because you won’t take your mask off so I can verify your driver’s license with your face.
I’m pretty sure that the judge will throw my ass in jail for not being diligent in my transactions- not the furries.
So what do I do?
Don’t judge me, but I try not to make eye contact—not that there are eyes to make contact with. All I can see are huge fake eyes with a small sliver of an opening that I assume the wearer looks out of.
Moreover, I cannot meet the energy of people masquerading as their inner child. The furries I met this weekend tended to dance more than walk. They jumped to show their excitement. There were a lot of growls and purrs that I didn’t know how to respond to.
Do I growl back? Or is it a sign of displeasure? Do I meet purr for purr?
So many questions. Not that I could ask the ‘do’s’ and ‘don’t’s’.
I couldn’t understand them.
The mask got in the way.
Conclusion
I love that at every show, I meet new people and experience various ways of life. It keeps life interesting for me. I might not always understand, and sometimes I don’t agree, but for the most part, it is a taste of another world I might not have seen otherwise.
Will I ever try to be a furry or join the furry community? Absolutely not. I’m a middle-aged woman on the cusp of menopause. Walking around in a 30-pound mask with little slots of air flow doesn’t seem like my idea of a good time. But I support those who do.
I just ask that when conducting a business transaction, maybe take the mask off. Please?
Until tomorrow, my friends- Keep Reading and Stay Caffeinated.
If tales of legend, myth, and fantasy topped with a cup of coffee interest you, I suggest checking out my book, The Writer and the Librarian. A historical fantasy about a middle-aged woman who must choose between accepting what is written in history books or seeking out the truth behind the tales. Limited edition copies are now available on my website
Signed Copy of The Writer and the Librarian (Book 1) – R.L. Geer-Robbins / Author (rlgeerrobbins.com)
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