While driving home on Old Cutler today, a green lizard fell into my car, landing near the window where my arm had been not even thirty seconds earlier. He stared at me, unblinking, obviously waiting for me to invite him in.
When it finally registered in my mind that this was a real reptilian being joyriding on my car, my brain scrambled for a course of action. I tried waving him back out the window but he must have mistook my hand movements for the expected invitation because he crawled across my dashboard and settled just over the passenger seat.
So I grabbed an umbrella to make sure he perceived my next actions as the threat they were intended to be. He got the message and, instead of aiming for the open window, he jumped to the floor of the car and I lost sight of him.
For twenty minutes, I drove with absolute paranoia, the slightest movement of anything against my foot caused me to flinch, draw up my legs, and clutch the steering wheel in a death grip while barely swallowing the scream that longed to erupt from my throat.
Finally, I pulled up to the school to pick up my son and swung open the door. There was the stowaway, blended an ugly brown, on the side of the seat. A quick jab with the umbrella preceded his hasty departure. I guess it was his stop.
I should have asked for gas money.