So, we're at work today, minding our own business, when a coworker says, from the back room, "Um, guys? There's a turtle back here." Let it be known, this is a specialty triathlon store. We do not sell turtles. FYI.
The store is located in an outdoor shopping center. Not in a pond. Also FYI.
Regardless, the back door had been propped open all morning, letting in the fresh air.
And the turtles. Apparently.
Sure enough, we all clamored to the back room because, hey! Turtle! And, well, there was a turtle.
A turtle in the back room. With the boxes of running shoes. Just hangin' out, all, "Hey, I'm a turtle."
Uh, hello? Can we help you?
That bad boy had quite the hike. Through the back door, over a stack of crushed boxes and into the back room. Dude was on a mission.
And like any unsuspecting turtle hosts, we giggled. Took pictures. Propped boxes next to him for photo shoots. You know, whatever. It's a turtle.
Of course, we eventually led him back into the outdoors, where he'll hopefully find a more appropriate hangout. Like, perhaps, a lake.
But we did appreciate the visit.