Stood in front of a guy in line at the pet food store this evening. He was carrying a bloated bag full of live crickets. I asked him what they were for and he told me they were food for his pet Chameleon.
I asked how many ended up roaming his apartment, under his couch. He said quite a few managed to get away.
Then I asked what was his Chameleon's name. It didn't have one. I suggested the name "Mami". He laughed.
The man was wearing an auto body shop uniform, with grease under his fingers and tattoos on his hands. He was a working man returning home to his pet Chameleon with a gift of live crickets to eat for dinner.