Fear Street

One of the fun things David and I did in South Carolina was visit Alligator Island. This was a little island off the coast of America, and we got there by taking a 30 minute ferry ride. I was a bit anxious before the trip that I would get seasick like I always do, but I didn't. My seasickness seems limited to catamarans.

We were mostly excited to visit some Friends and/or Foes. Here at Internals Plural, we're always on the lookout for our reptilian comrades.

First we found this one. I am doing some sort of approximation/cartoon-version of fear in the photo. The little beasty was sleeping and clearly wasn't very interested in us. Still, pretty impressive. Friend.

Now this bastard decided he was going to sunbathe in the road. He didn't seem very interested in stepping aside for us to resume our journey, so we had to take an alternate route. That is true fear I am expressing, as I was trying to bravely inch closer, like Joan Crawford towards Trog. Foe.

Some wiseacre told us that the gators can run up to 30 mph. We figured we'd have to clock in at 35 mph to outrun them.

Secretly, I knew if it came down to it, I'd just trip David and scoot along on my own. Surely the gator would only want one of us, right? I guess that makes me more Foe than Friend.

God Bless, Friends and Foes.