Rubbish, piffle, tommyrot, drivel and utter bilge

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

I Got Stung (wow, an Elvis reference!)

The other day I was watching Bee Movie starring the voice of Jerry Seinfeld, and it sprang to my mind that there are two personal records I hold - one, that I haven't thrown up since June 1980, and two, that I have only been stung once. Well, twice if you count getting bit by a ladybird.  didn't know they could do that, but evidently, they can.
I got stung by an insect that is known as the common wasp in the UK and in the States as a yellowjacket.

It was in the dog days of summer. I was at my friend Rupert's house, and I was having lunch with him and his older brother. As I recall, there was quiche involved. I love quiche. But I digress. But as you all know, that's my M.O.

We noticed a wasp in the window, buzzing sleepily around in the heat, but we really didn't give it another thought, until it buzzed lazily through the kitchen, doing little circles in the air, meandering like the River Cuckmere, and finally coming to rest on the top of my head, nestling in my curly hair (which may surprise the friends I've made in Georgia, since for years I've kept my hair short).

Rupert stood immediately, moved behind me and made attempts to flick the bug out of my mane. His brother was dispatched to fetch the antiseptic, in anticipation of the worst. Wisely, as it turned out.
Rupert's flicking finally met with success. The wasp fell out of my hair and straight down the back of my shirt. I had about 2 seconds to become accustomed to this fact when it hit me. A searing pain right between my shoulder blades, which was not to be equalled until many years later when the doctor removed some skin tags with some sort of archaic metal hot wire. But I digress. Again.

Anyway, I believe I uttered some sort of oath in fluent Swahili. I don't remember. Well, actually, I do, but I'm not going to reprint it here. I pulled at the collar of my shirt and released the clumsy insect, which executed another lazy dance across the kitchen, bopped its little waspy head on the window and plopped onto the sill.

From that day to this, I have not been stung by anything. I've been burnt, bitten, cut, had my foot attacked by Nigel's maniac hairy poodle Coco, had my finger smushed in a door hinge... but no more sting.

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