Glenda Kemp Snake Dancer
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What happened to the snake?
If hissstory serves me right, Oupa Python exchanged his African heritage for a British passport.
Hopefully, he would have lived and have known the likes of slithering under the leadership of Harold Wilson , tasted the iron of Margaret Thatcher and witnessed the inauguration of John Major. That is if he did not squeeze the life out of the wrong object , and if he lived to a ripe old snake age of 25. What the British do with departed snakes, is anyone’s guess. A bag? Shoes? Not.
He did not broaden his horizon outside of the English country side as his passport was all that returned to South Africa with me. There was no investigation as to the whereabouts of the occupant that did not accompany his documents.
Our divorce papers were signed when Paul Raymond of Raymond’s Revue bar declared that he wanted my show but not the snake. I was not cruel, as the relationship between me and the snake was purely a business arrangement wherein snake served as a logo and nothing more. I was happy to have cleared the notion that a snake was my claim to fame. I did have a show you know.
So what did happen to the snake? I left it behind in a happy state with a line of voluptuous dancers bidding for the use of its services. The decision was left with the owner of the girly enterprise. I danced off in to the English limelight, solo for the first time and enjoyed the ‘hiss-less’ ride.
Even today, after so many hundreds of years, the first question asked by those in the know is: What happened to the snake? Now you know!
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