8 DAYS | 115first person STORY JASON HAHN
No one is quite sure
how Sharyn’s cousin
managed to haul a fair-
skinned anaconda into her
BMW, but she showed up at the
vet as instructed, at which the vet
promptly confiscated it.
A
few days ago, Amanda
had coffee with an
old school friend. To
hear Amanda tell it,
Esther had been quite
the bombshell back in the day, but
three divorces, five children and two
face-lifts later, she had, in Amanda’s
words, “seen better days”.
“I don’t want to know what she
says about us behind our backs,”
Saffy murmured to me out of the
corner of her mouth. “Nothing I
wouldn’t say in front of it!” Amanda
snapped. “Do you honestly think that
I can’t hear you when you do that?”
Recovering quickly, Saffy radiated
innocence. “Do what?”
“That whole fake whisper thing
when you’re just saying it at a slightly
lower volume than your normal
speaking voice!”
“Now, now,” Saffy crooned in
the same soothing tone of voice
I imagine a farmer must use as
he’s leading jittery cows to the
slaughterhouse. “I’m just teasing.
No need to get your Victoria’s Secret
panties in a knot. You were telling us
about Esther?”
Amanda pursed her lips, clearly
torn between annoyance and the
need to tell her story. Indiscretion
won the day. She sucked in a deep
breath and continued.
“You know how she recently got
engaged to Martin?” Saffy stared
up at the ceiling. “Martin. Martin.
Remind me, which one he is?”
“That short, fat venture capitalist
bazillionaire who looks like that
clown from It ?”
Saffy’s bosom inflated to
dangerous volumes. “Ohmygod, how
could I have forgotten! Totally know
who you’re talking about! She’s still
engaged to him?”
“Well, wait for it! Martin just got
accused by three separate women of
sexual harassment!”
Saffy stuck a hand in her mouth
to stifle the scream. Her eyes bugged
wide. It was some time before she
could say anything, but when she
eventually lowered her hand, it was
to speak in a genuine whisper that
required Amanda and me to lean in
to catch her words.
“That is as gross as that snake
story that Sharyn told me today!”
“What snake story?”
It turns out that one of Sharyn’s
cousins in Sarawak keeps a
pet anaconda at home. It was,
apparently, something she’d rescued
from a drain during a particularly bad
storm some months ago, and seeing
as it was a baby, she took it home
and after a few days of feeding it
baby mice, decided to keep it. “Why
do people do that?” Amanda asked.
“Wait, it gets worse,” Saffy said.
“I don’t see how. I’m already
so creeped out!” It turned out thatSharyn’s cousin had taken to keeping
the quickly-growing anaconda in
bed with her and had even given it
a name: Bingbing, in honour of her
favourite actress Fan Bingbing of
whose local Sarawak fan club she is
president.
“I really don’t like where this story
is heading,” Amanda said. “It gets
worse,” Saffy promised. “So last
week, the cousin rang her vet and told
him that Bingbing was acting really
weirdly. Apparently, when the cousin
woke up each morning, she would find
Bingbing lying next to her completely
rigid in a straight line. The vet then
said that she should bring Bingbing in
immediately for a check-up.”
No one is quite sure how Sharyn’s
cousin managed to haul a fair-
skinned anaconda into her BMW,
but she showed up at the vet as
instructed, at which the vet promptlyconfiscated Bingbing.
“Thank God,” Amanda sighed.
“Wait, I’m not done yet,” Saffy
said. The cousin, it seems, raised
a ruckus and, to his credit, the vet
waited till she’d run out of steam
and then said, Do you know why I
asked you to bring the snake in?
“Apparently,” Saffy said, “an
anaconda uses its body length like
a ruler. It was literally measuring the
cousin while she slept to see if it
was long enough to eat her!”
Amanda screamed. She pushed
back her chair and ran howling from
the lounge room. Saffy sighed and
shook her head.
“That is easily the creepiest storyI’ve ever heard in my entire life!” I
told her. “You don’t have to tell me,”
Saffy said. “It’s like staring at the
sun. You just can’t un-hear it. I’ve
had goosebumps all day!”
“Wait,” I said, “but what does
this story have to do with Esther
and Martin?”
“Nothing really, except that I
thought the snake story was truly
gross until I heard about Martin!
But have you noticed,” Saffy said,
staring once again at the ceiling,
“how all these sexual molesters
are always, well, not to offend
anyone....well, fat and ugly? I
just think it would be such a nice
change if someone hot like, say,
Chris Hemsworth was accused of
rubbing himself against someone.”
“You’re imagining that happening
to you, aren’t you?” I asked.
Saffy turned pink. “Totally.”