The following is a true story shared on my personal facebook page from the spring of 2015. I am reminded of it often as the wasps are out in full swing this summer.
I come out of a thrift store in south Alabama. Just killing time on a warm spring afternoon. A very determined wasp is trying to squeeze his way into my car through the gaps around the driver side door. He couldn’t quite get his body through. He looks sketchy – like a real troublemaker.
I bolt to the passenger side, climb in, slam the door, crawl over the gear shift, and squeeze into the driver’s seat. Feeling quite proud of myself (while also hoping no one was looking), I pull out onto a sleepy two-lane street. A glance into the right-side mirror reveals a horrible sight. The little devil flew to the passenger side and is trying to burrow in over there.
I take off down this 35-mph road certain the wind will dislodge him. Nope. Little sucker’s got glue on his feet. He hunkers down and hangs on. I find a street with a 45-mph speed limit. Same result. I feel a bit foolish flying down roads through rural communities I never intended to visit in the first place because I need a high speed limit to knock a bug off my car.
I call my husband, frantic, driving 55 mph, bug still attached, and explain my dilemma. What I thought the poor man could do from the next county over, I don’t know; but, I needed the moral support. Unfortunately he had little to offer.
I approach the next small town. Eureka! A gas station! I consider pulling into the car wash and hoping for the best when I roll the window down to pay. All of a sudden, the bug blows loose. Success! I burned $5 in gas and lost half an hour out of my day, but that wasp did NOT get in my car.
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