I don’t mind a little blood.

Spiders? No problem.

Ghosts? Unlike Bigfoot, I doubt they exist.

Snakes scare the hell out of me.

Happily, I was waiting (and waiting and waiting) in court for a jury to return a verdict this week when a small snake was seen slithering in one of the overhead lights at our new “office.”

I share the space with five women, and, not to be xenophobic (just stating a fact), I would have been called upon, as the man, to handle the little serpent; I’m also called upon to hang things around the “office” and heft things in and out of cars, among other odd jobs.

What any man was to have done with the snake is beyond me. It was stuck between a beaming fluorescent tube and its cover. I’ve been told by dedicated Florida Fish and Wildlife officials not to handle snakes, and I likely wouldn’t have gone against their word. Eventually, it just slithered away. Somewhere. It hasn’t been seen since Wednesday. (That’s a rat snake above.)

Unhappily, that wasn’t the only snake seen at the complex across the street from Skydive City.

Biker chick and ad rep Pat Pennington doesn’t seem like the squeamish type, but what she saw this morning, as she was about to stub the butt of her Pall Mall 100 into the cement ash tray outside, gave her pause.

Orange, coiled and ugly, the rat snake stared up at the ember and didn’t flinch.

Turns out, it was dead. Pat eventually flung its limp corpse into a nearby ditch.

I’m going on vacation in a few hours and won’t be back for a couple weeks.

If all the snakes at work find different jobs in the meantime, my return will be much happier.