Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Not fair

I'll make this quick.

Yesterday... I spy a hornet taking a brisk walk across my bedroom carpet. I'm busy. In a hurry. I have an engagement to get to. No time to negotiate with this trespasser. And no desire to risk getting skewered later that night - should we inadvertently cuddle in bed.

I grab an expired phone book off the desk; one that is destined for the blue box. I hold it well above the strolling hornet and release.

Thump.

"Take that, hornet! I'll deal with your flat little hornet corpse later."


That's right. No remorse.

Fast forward - this morning...

Brilliant sunlight floods through the blinds and pushes me from the bed. Looks like good weather. I have the day off. Coffee on the patio appeals. I grab a short sleeve shirt from the closet, a pair of shorts off the floor, gallop down the stairs and out to the patio to sample the temperature. Warm. A tad muggy actually. As I step back up through the doorway, bending my knee I feel a sudden sharp pinch in the hollow behind the knee. Feels like a bee sting.

Listen to me saying "pinch" eh? My dentist has brainwashed me obviously. He always says, "This'll pinch a bit" before he drives a long thick needle into my flesh. Sounds so much more civilized than, "I'm going to stab you in your gums a bit", doesn't it? Can't say I blame him.

There's little question I've been stung. Trapped a stinger-bearing critter behind my knee for just an instant. That's all it takes. If they think for a moment they're in for a squishin' they sting. Happens every time. I mock a covergirl pose and look back at the offended area. No sign of the culprit. Why was he behind my knee in the first place - right there at the hem of my shorts?

Wait a minute.

The shorts had been laying on the bedroom floor... The hornet from the night before... The phone book...

No. No way. Not possible. I jog back up the stairs, into the bedroom. I stand above the phone book, looking down at it, filled with a sense of omen. I crouch, reach out and lift the phone book and discover beneath it - nothing.

No hornet - dead or otherwise.

I'm very unhappy about this. This isn't fair.

Self-proclaimed poets in ardent study of the nature of life and the human species should not be forced to ponder the possible existence of vengeful undead zombie hornets! This is NOT acceptable, dammit!

New rules, people! And these rules supercede any decreed by your state, church or landlord:

Rule number one: Self-proclaimed poets in ardent study of the nature of life and the human species must not be led to ponder the possible existence of vengeful undead zombie hornets.

Rule number two: No undead zombie hornets allowed! Anywhere! Vengeful or not!

rULE NUMBER THREE: aGGGH! Rule number three is - put the friggin caps-lock button some-bloody-where else on the keyboard where stupid poets won't keep hittin' it by mistake.

Rule number four: No car stereos allowed in Streetsville.

Okay, that's all the rules I can think of for now. Anything else goes.

Thanks.
Image ruthlessly stolen from www.ffcompendium.com
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7 comments:

Claudia said...

I have never been stung or bitten by any bee type animal... I hope I am not allergic whenI do get one!

sorry it happened... but hey, its all better now isn't it?

Kathleen said...

Like Claudia, I've never been stung by a bee/hornet/wasp type bug either.

I'm thinking it's a good thing you weren't allergic. Thanks for updating.

I was rfshwbn without your poetical words. ;-)

Dave said...

What? never been stung? I've been stung more times than I can count. Last year I was stung twice on the hands within a few days of one another. First when I was chatting with my old neighbour, I put my hand on the top of a fence post he was installing. Damn wasp got me right on the palm. I needed an iced cappuccino to keep the swelling down. A few days later I decided to sling my jacket over my shoulder, and I guess there was a wasp on my shoulder unbeknownst to me, and the bastard got me in the meaty part of my thumb. Yep, another iced cap. If nothing else, being stung is always a good excuse for a serious dose of caffeine, sugar and cream.

Fantasy Writer Guy said...

My cure for bee stings is a bottle of wine - which is also my cure for frostbite, aching joints, stiff neck, stubbed toe, the blues, general delirium, thirst... The list goes on and on.

Been stung a few times. Never found it to be a big deal at all. Barely more annoying than a mosquito bite. My advice to you sting-virgins out there -- don't waste your energy fearing bees. It's really not a big deal.

Oh. Unless your allergic. Then your kinda screwed.

Oh - and you caught me in a lie. It was a wasp, not a hornet. Duh.

Flumadiddle said...

Kathleen and Claudia - How have you managed to have never been stung? Never ever? Not even by a sweat bee?

I don't think I've ever known anyone who hasn't been stung by something. Maybe I just don't know they haven't, because it's not something you discuss on a day-to-day basis. I think I'm going to have to start a poll.

Why the hell am I obsessing over this so much?

Kathleen said...

FWG - I'm actually not that afraid of being stung. I just haven't been.

Fluma - Claudia and I are extremely lucky. ;-)

Claudia said...

Well if it is any consolation, fleas bedbugs and mosquitos LOVE ME.