Content Note, please be aware that this story is of a frank, sexual nature and may not be suitable for all audiences.
JACOB: This story is written by John Weagly. John Weagly has been heard as the voice of HarperCollins/ HarperKids Publishers, Wendella Sightseeing and on multiple podcasts including High Country Drama and Lumpy & Sasquatch. Some of his favorite stage roles include Stefano in THE TEMPEST, Brother Matthew in MONASTERIES, Curley in OF MICE AND MEN, Marlowe in FORGET HIM and touring with Authorized Personnel: A Comedy & Improv Team. He can be heard in the upcoming animated film WOULD YOU RATHER I WAS DEAD? This is “The Morning After Eggsperience”.
I woke up next to three eggs.
Three light blue eggs the size of Granny Smith apples. They were sitting on my satin sheets in a puddle of viscous glop, left there by a man I barely knew.
Never again would I take home a guy I met in a bar.
We’d met the night before at The Iguana Lounge. It was 80’s night and music from the decade of excess played on the jukebox while neon buzzed in darkened corners. To the records of the Eurythmics, he bought me gin and tonics and I laughed and touched his arm. To the songs of Culture Club, I bought him glasses of scotch and he laughed and stroked the back of my neck.
I took him back to my apartment. I loved the feel of his rough skin under my hands (I see now that I was actually caressing his scales). I loved the way he seemed to shimmer and change color in the moonlight (I see now that he was actually part chameleon). I loved the things – the oh so many things – he could do with his tongue (No regrets about that – his flickering-dickering tongue actually almost made the eggs worth it).
It was hour after hour of squamate ecstasy.
And then, after we were both gloriously spent and I fell asleep, he plops out three eggs, puts on his clothes and heads for the hills. I don’t even know his name.
Let me be clear on this – I didn’t think his kind really existed! I mean, I’ve stood in line at the grocery store and seen the ridiculous tabloid headlines:
“Lizard-People Live Among Us!”
“Lizard-Men Control Our Government!”
“Lizard-Lady Runs Amok And Ruins Toddler’s Birthday Party!”
Lizard-People? People that are lizards? That nonsense was always good for a laugh.
Well, I wasn’t laughing now.
I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to figure out my next move. The room still smelled
like last night’s pleasure. Was I supposed to sit on these eggs like a mother hen for who knows how long and then raise his three little Godzillas until they were ready to go off to their high-paying jobs with the Illuminati? That wasn’t part of my plan. I was young, I had a good job, I was building a career. I didn’t have time for infant mutant ninja geckos.
Would he be coming back? Doubtful. Highly doubtful. He wouldn’t be the first guy, lizard or not, to disappear forever after leaving a lady in trouble.
I looked back at the eggs. I poked one. It was leathery, a little soft, kind-of vulnerable. Helpless, in its own way. Maybe if it didn’t take them too long to hatch, and if I could take a break from work, and if they were cute with big eyes and tiny clawed toes and a pointy little egg tooth…
No! I couldn’t deal with this. Why should I be the one responsible for cleaning up his mess?
I got out of bed and cleaned myself up. I gathered the eggs in a plastic Target bag and took them into the kitchen.
Then, a short time later, I ate the best omelet I’ve ever tasted.
Jacob Sturgeon is a musical theatre graduate who quickly abandoned musical theatre. He is an avid participant/administrator of role playing games both tabletop and live action, and delights in all things that may be considered “nerdy.”