The King Cobra Snake Show
We sat on the back row cowering closely together as the cobra continued to strike out at the man.
What idiot would provoke the King Cobra on purpose? I wondered to myself as the snake charmer kept trying to set the snake off. He blew in the snake’s face and tapped his fingers trying to get it to attack him, and right as the snake would hiss and strike out, the man would duck out of the way just in time to avoid a trip to the hospital.
The King Cobra is the longest venomous snake in the world, one bite and you’re dead in under twenty minutes. And here we were, sitting less than fifteen feet away from one, not being restricted or held back in any sort of way. I was just waiting for the cobra to launch itself at us.
Like most people, I have NEVER liked snakes. Even looking at them through glass gives me the willies. So sitting this close to the world’s scariest snake was not the best situation for me to be in. The snake could maybe strike out three or four feet, nowhere near where we were sitting, but that didn’t stop us from siting on the back row of the empty stadium.
I was aware that we looked liked idiots, but the second the first snake came out we all jumped back to the last row huddled together like the seats were packed.
My heart was racing and I was ready to leave. The longer we sat there, the more chances the cobra would bite us.
The snake charmer was attempting to kiss the top of the cobra’s head which, in my opinion, seemed like the dumbest thing in the world. I personally would rather be alive than die just to impress a couple of tourist.
Of course what didn’t help my jumpy nerves was one of the employee’s commentary booming overhead.
“Save your lips, man. Save your face,” over and over again trying to make the situation even more intense than it already was.
Somehow, the snake charmer kissed the top of the King Cobra’s head and put him back into the box.
The rest of the night we were rather jumpy and continuously discussed how much we disliked the performance, as impressive as it was, because none of us like snakes.
I don’t know how much those King Cobra charmers get paid, but there is no amount of money in the world to get me to pull any of those stunts with the snake.
“Save your lips, man. Save your face.” The man’s words came back to me as I was wishing I were still snorkeling in the Similan Islands. I think he was the only one there with an ounce of sense.
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