I walked into work the other morning while the wind blew my hair all over creation, as usual (no good hair days where I work). I saw a wasp headed straight for me, and ducked. But unfortunately the nasty creature flew right into my mess of purple hair. And got tangled up in it. What was I to do?? I could feel it, but I knew if I blindly tried to use my hands to help it along I’d likely get stung. Luckily it eventually extricated itself, though I was left with the creepy-crawlies the rest of the day.
This awful incident reminded me of a similar experience years ago.
Once when I was a teen, one of those large wasps with the incredibly long legs got into the house. It was flying around the front window and keeping us from going anywhere near the living room. Well, some of us anyway. So Mum told my oldest bro to get rid of it (in other words, smash it to smithereens!), but my brother didn’t care much for the task and put it off a while – lazy bastard. Thus when he was finally pressured into it, the wasp was nowhere to be found. “Oh well,” he said. “Must have gotten out.” Oh, no it didn’t!
The next morning I got up and got ready for school. I had just stepped out of the shower, toweled off a bit, and was wrapping my towel around myself as I felt some water droplets on my leg that seemed… strange. Something not quite right. I looked down to see that very large, and very wet, wasp sidle down my foot and onto the floor. I was shook, I tell you, and got out of there FAST. And had some very choice, and very loud, words for my brother.
I surprisingly didn’t get stung though. Had I noticed the horrible, stingy thing a second sooner, when it was higher up on my leg, I would have had more time to freak the fuck out before it reached the floor, and I’m sure it would have stung me in panic. Probably in pleasure too, the awful thing.
Needless to say, I’m not a fan of wearing wasps.