My easter weekend started with me working late. This was mostly by choice, my boss even gave me an hour off, but I had become possessed by my research. Why I am not sure, but the end of the day brought about a race between me and the techies who thought that our server was in dire need of an update right then and there and that no one in their right mind would be working on a Friday night. They would take down the server. I would cuss. They would tease me by bringing it up while I was getting coffee. You know the drill. Finally, one of my coworkers told me I was nuts and kicked me out. In retrospect, I am thankful to him, but I left behind the battery and three or four things that I needed to get some work done.
This forced me to not work, and to think aqbout other things, so I drove to the mall where the teeny boppers had taken over. They reminded me of cockroaches in heat. They were everywhere, and kept you gritting your teeth when you entered a new room.
For some odd reason, I remember seeing one rather gay looking goth type teen get his jollies off by sitting on a Ronald McDonald Statue's lap. I don't get it either, but the staff of Mickey D's was as disturbed as I was. Perhaps cold french fries had put him in the mood to put some moves on a plastic clown. I don't know, but what I do know is it reminded me that my roomie was out of town.
My research, work, and lifestyle had kept me from putting moves on anything of late, and it had been some time since I had been with anyone or anything in horizontal, vertical, or even virtual fashion.
So long in fact, that I decided to give into my urge to watch a brown bag film. Like any self respecting perve, I went to the video store and barn stormed the adult section. My plan was simple get in and out as quickly as possible. (I sometimes wonder if this kind of mentality leads to marital trouble later on) In anycase, I didnt want to run into anyone I know, and although the chance of running into a flock of nuns or my mother or my fifth grade teacher was nil and none, I still was a bit troubled and embarassed by this natural impulse.
I somehow managed to get from the porn shop to my home without encountering my friends, family, or room mate. Ironically, my room mate's mom is an ex-nun. He owes his existence to the ex-part which has to cross his mind from time to time. In anycase, his family is still somewhat religious, so for easter he had driven south to hook up with the rest of the Gandy clan.
This left me alone with the house and my paper sack and about a zillon may flies. Yes, may flies. After escaping breeding season at the local mall, I had gone home to find that the local bug population was violating the occupancy limit.
A word of note. May flies vary in size, but are often about the length of a penny. They look like little dragon flies. They don't bite, but have a nasty habit of swarming anything and everything that gets their attention. They are short lived, and last all season, but for about one week each year they basically take over. This was obviously that week.
Our steps were literally crawling with the suckers when I got home. The air was full with them. There were about two hundred of them inside my screen door. I swear I saw a few of them smoking ciggarettes and eyeing my brown paper sack, as I debated on how best to get inside the house.
I finally (two seconds max) decided that thinking with a constant bug whine in my ear was counter productive and just swarmed the house. Of course, the swarm came with me. When I entered the house, I invited in over a hundred guests
Now my room mate has this thing with bug spray. He doesn't believe in it. Of course he is scared stiff of spiders, but you don't expect rationale thought from my room mate do you? Well, I am not a big fan of having flying pests in the house, and somehow I was no longer in the mood. Especially not with the current audience, so I looked around for a shoe or newspaper or an uzi. Anything that would uninvite my current guests. I finally settled on a can of Pledge furniture polish.
Yes, I used Pledge as bug spray. The funny part is that they litterally dropped like flies as a result. I don't know what is in that stuff, but one spray and the beasties were falling out of the skies. I sprayed so much of the stuff that I fell on my butt on the now oily floor. I'm sure my butt had a nice shine too.
Of course, I had a bug grave yard on the floor as well, but that was a small price to pay for peace in our time. I wanted to sweep up the hundred plus bugs littering my floor, but my broom had become a walking stick, so I had to clean up the mess with part of my last roll of toilet paper.
Finally, I was done. There were no teeny boppers or other pests about. It was just me and my porn. One problem. My roomie broke the dvd player and forgot to tell me. I swear the bugs were laughing at me.
