I like driving. It's fun, and while I'm driving I have a chance to mentally prepare myself for the day ahead. I often like to do this with the window open, because having the radio turned up and the wind in my face at 8 AM is absolutely necessary to my preparing process.
I do not like traffic. You don't move, you sit there, and suddenly the wind that was in your face becomes a stifling, oppressive heat. Also, if you leave the window open, bugs might fly into your car, as one did to me this morning. Except it wasn't just a bug. It was a yellow-jacket.
Oh hai.In the word of bugs, you've got a couple different categories. There's mosquitoes and flies, which fall under the "Damn Annoying," and "Bugs that make you wave your arms about and dance like a ninny" categories. You've got the honey bees, which are in the "Hey, you're cool. Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone." But then you've got hornets and yellow-jackets, which are in the "Complete Asshole" category. The "I'll sting you if I damn well want to and there's nothing you can do about it" category.
Basically, they're dicks.
And it's one of these that flew into my window while I was sitting in traffic, and then promptly crawled into the tiny space between the windshield and the dash. "You clever fucker," I thought. "Now I'll just flip out the whole drive to work because I wont know if you're still there or not." Cause, you know, sometimes not knowing is worse. This yellow-jacket was the master of psychological warfare.
I might sting you, but I might not. HAHA YOU DON'T KNOW!I immediately became aware of four things:
1. Where my limbs were and what was on them: Was that a hair? Or something crawling across my foot? What about my face? OH GOD IT'S IN MY HAIR.
2. How fast I was going: Would the yellow-jacket like it better if I went fast? Or slow? Does stopping abruptly anger it?
3. How bumpy the road was: Oh God, oh God, it's going to fly up out of there once I hit this huge bump and go right into my face.
4. What the music on the radio was: You know, because music soothes the savage beast. I figured commercials would anger him, so I frantically tried to find the stations that had music playing.
It also likes Nickelback. What a douche.In an effort to calm myself down, I tried to be playful and give the yellow-jacket a name. With my creative skills oppressed by the evil lurking near my windshield, I settled on Bob.
But you know what? It didn't work. Bob was still a scary motherfucker. Instead of making the yellow-jacket more charming and amiable, it just added a rather sinister feel to the name "Bob."
Get the fuck away from me, Bob.I think it's necessary to note here that I have never been stung. By anything. Ever. I guess seeing my brother get stung when I was little honed my survival instincts, and even though I ran away screaming from any black and yellow thing ever, I've avoided getting stung to this day. It probably would be less painful now than as a child, but it would still hurt, and the image of my brother wailing in pain is not yet erased from my memory. So, I am still afraid of these sinister flying, stinging machines. Not deathly afraid, but enough to make me dance like a ninny any time I come in contact with a yellow thing with wings.
Thankfully, I made it to work without something flying in my face and me crashing the car. As I was carefully shutting my window, poised to jump out at the least sign of yellow, a thought occurred to me: It was going to be hot today. Really hot. Like 95 degrees hot. As a result, the inside of my car would be the approximate temperature of the sun. So instead of leaving the windows rolled down and providing an escape route, I left them up and walked away laughing. That yellow-jacket is so dead. Deader than dead.
Feast while you can, asshole.But since it's such a dick, I half expect it to still be alive and out for vengeance.
*Just so everybody knows, the image search for this was the worst thing I ever had to do.
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