I used to have a Ball Python and a Red-Tail Boa. My python (Mr. Gifford-long but sort of funny story on the name) was awesome. When he was young and only a couple of feet long, I'd wrap him around my neck, hide him under my hair and wear him to work, or to the clubs, or shopping, wherever. When he got bigger, his weight made my back hurt after a while, so I couldn't comfortably carry him around anymore. He never offered to bite or constrict me and actually seemed to have a happy-go-lucky personality. I used to take him to "Learn about Pets" days at Elementary Schools, and he changed the minds of many squeemish little girls. My boa was the opposite; edgy and he would bite if I put my arm into his cage just wrong. He was really moody, didn't like to be handled, would never settle on me and would constrict me given half the chance.
When I got them, they ate pinkies and then grew into mice, then rats. I ended up raising my own rodents for them because it does seem silly to pay so much for such a prolifically reproducing menu item. I didn't have a seperate feeding cage, but never let them see me drop in a meal. I always did it out of their sight when they were in their hidey holes or under the blanket. I fed twice a week in the summer and once a week or every other week in the winter. Sometimes they'd go even longer in the winter.
Each snake had a full-spectrum day-time light, black night-time light, under-bed heater, soaking pan, scratch rock (for shedding), sleeping den (started as a rock den, as they grew they got a blanket), and climbing branches. I tried putting live plants in with them, but they were so heavy and strong that they'd break them. I used pieces of rough I/O carpet in the bottoms because bedding would stick to their rats and they'd have a harder time eating. The carpets were also easy to take out and wash. Their cages were about the size of a hope chest. They were talented escape artists, and I had to replace the screened tops with sturdier mesh and customize a locking mechanism to keep them in.
Mr. Gifford got out once for a couple days. I was so worried at the time because I had a litter of 9 one-week old Golden Retriever babies. One morning I went to clean the puppy pen, took out each puppy and mama, lifted the blanket, lifted the newspapers, and there he was curled up on the heating pad! I recounted the pups, but they were all there. Scared me to death though.