Woman Finds Python In Laundry Machine: What Does The World Have Against Me?

A woman in West Palm Beach was horrified to find a python in her washing machine.

"I looked down and I saw something snakeskin and I was like, 'Huh. What did I put in here that was snakeskin?' And I reached down and it started slithering and oh my gosh. I screamed so loud. It was a huge python," said Emily Visnic, who recently moved to Florida from Connecticut.

Visnic called apartment maintenance to remove the snake. She is not sure what they did with it. The apartment she lives in does not allow pet snakes.

Full story here.

Sometimes I write blogs that don’t affect my day to day all that much. I try to find the amusing, the weird, or the absurd, shine a light on it, and throw it out into the ether. There are some blogs that rock my existence to its core. This is one of those blogs. 

Up until this moment I thought in house laundry was one of the greatest luxuries in the modern world. In any of the world’s for that matter! Can you imagine if you’d just slapped a washer/dryer in a medieval hovel? The dangers of lugging your two bloodstained, dirt mucked tunics to the river a mile away? Forget them! Welcome to modernity, bitch! The annoyances of not having laundry in-unit were on full display every day in my last New York apartment. 

First, I rebelled against the laundromat and I’d lug my laundry down to the basement, through the puddles and roaches to the single washer/dryer we had in the building. You hoped you had your quarters. You hoped it took your quarters. You hoped it even washed your clothes. Eventually, once I’d been busted for using a nearby bar’s quarter machine for my personal gain, I had to switch to the laundromat. They wouldn’t print any new cards, and they refused to offer a solution so my roommate and I would have to ask the ladies who ran the place to lend us their cards. It was awkward. It was a nightmare.  I would have done anything for an in-unit laundry machine, and to have kissed those long, dangerous, tedious, and ultimately incredibly awkward walks goodbye.

This changes that. I hate to be this guy, but if someone’s going to find a python in a the laundry I’m putting that on anybody but me. I’m putting that on roommates, my grandma, or any hardworking laundromat employee I’ve ever met. I’m sorry. I’m a monster. I’m very afraid. I’m never paying attention when I’m taking out my laundry! It’s always interrupting something! I never understood people who could just hang out at the place and wait 45 minutes for the cycle end. I’m running home, getting in 15 minutes of Netflix and running back. I’m not wasting any fucking time checking to see what’s in the machine. Call me an idiot but I just assume that I’m pulling out what I put in. It’s in thinking through this that I realize I perhaps the most susceptible to a deadly snake in the mix. I’m a victim in the making!

So, with all that in mind, I’m out on in-unit laundry machines. I’m in on laundromats. I need my machines oiled, tuned up, and checked top to bottom every wash for snakes. I’ll willingly put my trust that there will be no snakes in my laundry, but I’m one experience away from having to make some drastic lifestyle changes. I’m a person who will do something until something bad happens and then swear off of the associated thing forever. I’ll rarely say no to something. But I’ll go in knowing that if my worst fears are realized, I’ll never do that thing again. Snake in a cereal box? No more cereal. Snake in a laundry machine? No more laundry. Snake in the woods? No more woods! I’ll cut down the Amazon myself if I have to! I’ve got just the right amount of pride, fear, and spite to pull it off. I’ll gladly handicap myself for the rest of my life if it means never being surprised in a negative way.