My friend Roger’s 30 year-old niece was in town for a business meeting. Since the hotel where she was staying was close by, Roger decided to have a Sunday afternoon barbecue so she could meet a couple of his friends. There were six of us for dinner, which included me and my partner and our mutual friends Kenny and Carlos.
It was a hot afternoon and we were on Roger’s back patio, overlooking the Middle River. He had made a pitcher of iced margaritas and as we drank we were marveling at the number of iguanas that were sunning themselves on his seawall. Roger’s niece, who is from Detroit, was charmed.
“They’re so cute!” she said.
Roger was not charmed. “They’re nothing but big green rats,” he said darkly. He took a broom and charged the seawall; unconcerned, the iguanas dove into the river and leisurely swam away; Roger threw a coconut at them and swore loudly. Shaking our heads, we all smiled fondly at Roger’s eccentricities .
That’s when Carlos saw that the ice in the margarita pitcher was rapidly melting. “Ice, we need ice!” he said and headed for the freezer.
Just then Roger returned, gasping slightly. “Where’s Carlos going?” he asked Kenny.
“He just went to get some ice, “said Kenny.
The transformation was immediate; all the color drained from Roger’s face and he ran into the kitchen. “No, no, no, no, no!” he shouted as he ran, still holding the broom.
Simultaneous with Roger reaching his kitchen we heard a series of noises. One sounded like a glass pitcher of margaritas shattering on the tile floor. Next came a large, unidentifiable thud. This was followed by what sounded like a large man jumping up and down and swearing rapidly in Spanish.
Wondering, the rest of us headed into the kitchen to discover that a very large and horribly active iguana had fallen out of Roger’s freezer and was now running rapidly through the dining room and into the living room.
Thankfully, Roger still had the broom and, swearing, he chased the iguana out the sliding door and into the back yard; the iguana bolted for the river and dove in. Carlos, shaken, took a big swig of tequila right from the bottle.
“There was an iguana in your freezer!” said Carlos accusingly when Roger returned, although Roger certainly must have known about it. “Why was there an iguana in your freezer?” he demanded.
Roger looked embarrassed. “I put him there,” he said as we all looked at him without comprehension, eyes wide and jaws slack.
He explained: His back yard has been taken over by iguanas so he bought some traps at Home Depot and baited them with rotten bananas. But once he trapped the iguanas he did not know what to do with them, so he put them in the freezer. There was an appalled silence. “It’s really quite humane,” Roger said virtuously. “Most of my neighbors poison them. “
Roger explained that he usually puts the iguanas into his garage refrigerator, but his trapping had been so successful that the garage fridge was full. That’s why he put today’s catch in his kitchen freezer.
I couldn’t help myself. “Then what?” I asked, and was immediately sorry that I did.
Roger sighed. “The guy who cuts my lawn has a brother who owns a restaurant in Miami. A couple of times a week the brother comes by to pick them up,” he explained. Carlos grimly passed the tequila bottle to Kenny who also took a big swig. Roger’s niece looked like she was about to cry. .
“They taste like chicken,” Roger concluded lamely.
The silence was deafening as we headed back to the backyard; the iguanas were already back on the seawall. I noticed that my partner was also drinking tequila right from the bottle; he was clearly ready to bolt.
No one said anything for several long moments, then Roger cleared his throat. “Who’s hungry?” he asked.
As always, I tried to defuse the awkward situation. “What’s for dinner?” I asked with a heartiness I did not feel.
“Chicken!” said Roger.