the bug story.
note: this was previously published on my facebook account, but since there's a few folks i know who dont have facebook, here ya go!
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So last Friday I am driving home in horrible traffic, my sandals off (I love driving barefoot), sunroof open, windows down. Grooving along. I feel a tickle and I look at my foot and see a HORRIBLY LARGE bug with lots of legs and antennae. I freak the eff out and grab my sandal and start whacking at the bug while trying not to drive into the person in front of me. I’m swerving all over my lane and I briefly debate pulling over but don’t want to risk the bug crawling on my foot all half-gooey from my smashing while I make the appropriate stop.
The bug stops moving so I put the sandal down and try to recompose myself to drive carefully again. Every few minutes though, I’m checking the floor to see if it’s still dead. I get off at my exit and look down, finally feeling relaxed, but the effer is ALIVE!!! And it’s crawling toward my still bare foot! I grab the sandal again and start smashing, this time more violently, almost ramming into the highway divider (oops). And after that lashing, I’m SURE it’s dead. I mean, it’s so firmly ground into my carpet I’ll need a shop vac to get it out.
This bug. It’s body is an inch long and a quarter inch wide. Each of it’s 6 legs are an inch long and the antennae are longer. It looks like a ginormous box elder mixed with a bee. I have never seen a bug like this in Illinois. I blame my open sunroof.
Next day, on the way to work, I notice another one of these bugs, curled up dead on the floor of the passenger’s seat. Hm. Interesting.
After work, I’ve done myself a favor and made a massage appointment. I’m in a bit of a rush to get there on time so I don’t open my windows to enjoy the breeze. I hear this… buzzing. And… crackling… and I’m getting that creepy crawly feeling. I look up into my rear view mirror and I can see, sticking to the rear window and seat heads are The Bugs. LOTS OF THEM!! They are crawling out of my TRUNK in rapid succession.
I break into a sweat and immediately tense up… WTF? Seriously? Bugs. Really. Ok… BREATHE… Where are they coming fro…ohhh shiiiiiiit. About a month ago my step boss (he’s not my real boss so he cant tell me what to do!) did me a favor by delivering me some freshly minted firewood straight from his forested abode in Michigan. I can see his face now:
“you’d better store this stuff outside, you know, just in case there’s bugs in there”…
No, I did not remove the wood from my trunk. In the last month, Chicagoland has burst full-force into spring weather, complete with emerging insects. In my car.
I pull into the parking lot of the strip mall where the massage place is, roll down the back window (in case they decide to nicely leave in an orderly fashion), grab my stuff and haul ass into the facility. I immediately turn around and ask my therapist and the cute young receptionists “IS THERE A BUG ON MY BACK!?” and of course…
“ohhh yahhh.. a really BIIG one!”
“GETITOFFGETITOFF! OHMYGOSHGETITOOOOFFF!!”
“Whoa… wait, no I’m sorry! I was joking – there’s nothing on there. You’re ok!”
“ok.. cuz…” I am in full whimper mode now “…cuz there’s a bunch of disgusting huge bugs living in my trunk and they just decided to ambush me on the way over here. I am SO CREEPED OUT!”
My therapist walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be ok! When you’re done, go across the way to Dominicks and get bug spray. Spray it in the car and leave it be for a half hour or so. Just don’t forget to drive home with the windows down.”
“thaaank you…” I manage. And try my best to put it out of my head for the next hour.
After the appointment, I can finally see the funny side of this – how spastic am I that I almost kill myself while driving because of a bug that has done me no harm other than to simply BUG me. I confidently walk to Dominicks and buy two cans of Raid. One for saturating, one for fogging. I get outside and the rain starts.
Big Sigh. Umbrella up. March forward. I am envisioning opening my trunk and having a swarm of these things come tumbling out. No, no, stop that… Calm… I unlock the door, gingerly look around the interior and see… nothing. I pop the trunk, head to the back and, with the stick end of the umbrella, lift the lid….
Nothing.
I look inside. Nothing. I stand closer, examining the wood. Nothing. Fuckers. So I spray the saturate Raid all over the wood, fog up the rest of the compartment, slam shut the trunk and go to the drivers side again. Still nothing. Open door, fog… fog…. More fog… is that enough? No, needs more fog… shutdoorfast and walk away.
Now I start thinking about heading home, having my engine overheat and the car explode. Shit. What have I done? “Mom? Did I do the right thing?” I ask into my cell. She calms me down further still, no hon, the car will not explode. Just drive with the windows down. “But… it’s pouring.” Another Big Sigh.
After a half hour I venture back to the car, again gingerly checking the driver’s seat to be sure there’s no Big Bug wedged into my steering column or under the brake pedal. I crack the passenger window and declare “I’d rather have a wet car than a buggy car” and head home.
A few miles down the road I look into my rearview mirror… a bug is crawling on the window…
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