An enquirer came to the desk with an envelope, asking us to identify the reptile skin within.
This lovely elderly woman had found the specimen in the gardens at a local school, and was concerned as to what reptiles might be lurking where children play.
I opened the envelope and regarded the yellowed, torn skin. "Hmm. Doesn't look like snake skin to me," I said, poking it with a finger. "Ah well, we'll send it through to our herpetologist, and see what she can tell us!"
Once the enquiry was properly documented and receipted, the enquirer headed off, leaving my colleague and I to have a closer look.
"This doesn't even look organic to me." I leant in, and poked it again. "It almost looks like an old sausage skin," I said, handing it to my colleague. He looked, raised an eyebrow and took a sniff.
"You know, it smells like rubber. Perished rubber. And it's oiling through the paper."
"...what? No. AUUUUGH I TOUCHED IT!"
Once my colleague had finished mocking me between bouts of hyperventilation and picked himself up off the floor, he took on the task of emailing the enquirer with the news that the "reptile skin" was actually a discarded piece of rubbish, and definitely not any sort of snake skin - well, except in a coarse, vernacular, metaphorical sort of way.
Not exactly what the poor enquirer expected... but at least it provided us with some welcome levity, and a good reason to use our antibacterial hand gel.
Photo: Siobhan Motherway Source: Museum Victoria
...*shudder*.
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