Say hello to Mr. Wasp.
I knew that big hole in my window screen would eventually lead to trouble.
This afternoon, a wasp flew straight through it. Big one, too. He looked pissed.
A funny thing happens to wasps when they come indoors. They just completely lose their grace. Outside, this wasp may have entranced me with its impossible flight patterns. In my office, it acted like a drunkard, smashing into walls and bumping into every obstacle.
I tried to ignore it, but how could I? This was a wasp. A wasp that was growing more and more agitated as it kept crashing into things. I had work to do, but it’s difficult to concentrate when there’s a giant wasp looking to vent its frustrations by way of Ass Needle. Something needed to be done, and fast.
No, this story isn’t about to take a turn for the gory. I try not to kill insects if it’s at all avoidable. Sometimes I think that our passage to Heaven is only granted after we endure the sum of our sins. If you squash a bug in life, a giant bug squashes you in the afterlife. I don’t want to die and then have to deal with a titanic wasp chasing me with comically oversized newspaper. It sounds lousy. And I bet Satan would hire Howard Shore to score it.
Instead, I did that old trick where you trap the offender in a glass, and slide a book under the open end so it can’t escape. Voila, instant wasp prison.
I studied my enemy for a few minutes, eventually realizing that he was no enemy. This was just some poor wasp that got curious about a hole in my window screen. He meant no harm and he deserved no punishment.
The internet has filled my days with many giant-sized insect photos, but it’s a lot different to see them up close for real. This guy was rad. With huge eyes and reddish brown coloring, I’m only confident enough to say that this was “a wasp.” I’m not exactly sure which type of wasp. Consider this a plea for our resident entomologists to speak the fuck up.
As I carried the wasp prison outside, my prisoner began to freak out. I guess he realized that he was close to open air. Or maybe he was just tired of being stuck in a glass. It sounds tiring.
Yes, I was about to set Mr. Wasp free. I wondered if the insect had any idea how lucky he was, considering the amount of people who would’ve ran for the Raid at the first sight of him.
On the other hand, I did trap him in a glass, and he probably didn’t like that. This was no time to lose vigilance. If Mr. Wasp got the chance, he might have stung me to death. Thus, I did what any grown man would do. I tipped over the glass and RAN back inside, shrieking and hopping like I was on fire.
Now Mr. Wasp is gone. Free. The chances of me encountering him again are very small. Even if I did, I’d have no way of knowing if it was the same wasp. There’s a certain sadness to the finality of this. Thank God I have this stupid website, to help commemorate those ten minute affairs with invasive insect species.
Now I’ll never lose you, Mr. Wasp. You’ll always be buried somewhere in the Dinosaur Dracula archives, ready to spook and delight me. See you later. I mean it!
