Friday, 1 April 2011

Wasps, or, How to Humiliate me in Public

Dear Reader,

It's April, the days are getting longer, the temperature is rising, Winter is definitely behind us and Spring has arrived. This is all good, soon there will be barbies, pub gardens and long dreamy evenings on the patio sipping G&T's. There is however one small wrinkle on this otherwise dreamy scene, wasps.

Let's make this quite clear from the start, I hate the little fuckers. Any wasp lovers out there might as well stop reading this post right now. Not only do I hate them, they revolt me, the presence of a wasp in my near vicinity makes my skin crawl. If a Benevolent God provided me with a button to press which eliminated wasps from the world forever I would press it in an instant and screw the consequences (whatever they are). They are scum, pure and simple. This may make me seem an irrational and intolerant individual who has an inability to accept all the wonders of nature that surround me. Well,  guess what, I am an irrational and intolerant individual who has an inability to accept all the wonders of nature that surround me, get used to it.

So, why you ask, where has this incandescent hate come from? Am I allergic? No. Was I stung in a particularly sensitive place by a wasp in the past? No. Did a wasp fly in my mouth and cause me to crash my bicycle when a wee bairn? No, no and thrice no. I just hate them, and am revolted by them, it's in my DNA. They have, however, succeeded in humiliating me, often.

Picture the idyllic scene, the garden of your favorite watering hole, on a bakingly hot Summer's day, sipping your favorite tipple. You are in good company enjoying the sunshine and then the wasp (no doubt accompanied by some friends) comes along to spoil the party. They want your beer, attracted by the sugar content presumably. For me this is a crisis, which will often manifest itself in me running screaming from the infested area waving my arms around in an attempt to protect myself, much to the amusement of my fellow drinkers and amused onlookers. This happens every year, at least once, often more than once, and it doesn't please me.

This year, not three days ago in fact, the wasp has moved my humiliation level up several notches. I am working, on site, in a large open plan room with about nine other people in residence. I am seated, at a desk, on a wheely chair, happily pressing buttons on a computer. I feel a disturbance in my hair, I brush my hair with my hand, not realising the horror that is about to unfold. It was a wasp! In my hair! That could have been the end it, but oh no, the little yellow and black disease has other ideas. Undoubtedly recognising me from previous species encounters (I'm sure the little fuckers have pictures of me up somewhere) it decides to fly at my face. At this point I have no choice, fight or flight instinct kicks in and I instinctively choose flight. Flight on this occasion involves back pedaling at high speed on my wheely chair whilst waving my arms like a demented windmill at the offending creature. The force of my windmilling combined with the back pedaling result in me ending up at the other side of the room facing in the opposite direction, much to the bemusement of all who have had the opportunity to witness this apparent nervous break-down of their external consultant. Is this the end of my humiliation? Not a fucking chance.

The wasp has gone, not from the room, but at least from my immediate vicinity. The individual in the room who hired me asks "Are you allergic?" "No, " I reply "I just hate them." I return to my desk, pretending none of the above has occurred, continuing my work, but knowing that the little flying scumbag is in the room waiting for another opportunity to strike.

I do not have to wait too long, whilst staring at a particularly annoying on-screen problem I become engrossed, not spotting the black and yellow nemesis now crawling over my mouse. When I spot it I just get out of the chair and move away from the desk, unable to do more, paralysed in fear. Someone comes to my aid by ushering the wasp out of the window with the help of a piece of paper, a task I am simply not capable of.

All in all a fantastic day in the office!

Dear Benevolent God (mentioned further up) I REALLY REALLY need that button. Who knows what level of humiliation they have in store for me next.

More soon dear reader xxx

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