On Aug. 23, I stepped foot at North Campus for the first time to attend an in-person chemistry course and lab.
After class I sat at one of the tables next to the scenic lake located at the center of campus.
I started listening to my playlist filled with Doja Cat songs and took out an apple and peach from my bag. The exhaustion I felt made those fruits seem like a full course meal.
It was a movie-like scene. The wind was hitting my hair, I had a serene view of the lake, background music and I was taking bites of my apple like there was no tomorrow.
Suddenly, I saw a pair of reddish-brown little eyes staring from the pavement at my apple.
I kept thinking I had the advantage because there was only one iguana, and most animals are scared of humans.
However, that day I learned that some animals, regardless of their size, have no fear.
Somehow the iguana had telepathically called two reinforcements and they were taking steps toward me.
Within seconds I realized I was at a disadvantage. My apple was no longer mine, but instead the property of a couple of cold-blooded bullies.
I fled the scene to spare my peach.
But I learned a valuable lesson that day: if you go to North Campus, don’t eat where iguanas can see you. They will spare you no mercy.
Now, when I encounter iguanas I scare them away to make sure they don’t steal my breakfast—ever again.
