Snorting flies

It's currently 6/12/19 and I'm keeping this here because quite frankly, I have no idea where the hell this came from. I know I wrote and I remember doing so, but what the hell was I thinking?!

I smoke… a lot more than I want to, but enough. In order for me to minimize my intake, I leave my smokes in the car, so on an average day away from work, I smoke about 3 cigarettes. That’s not bad.

Anyway, last night at about 9 pm, I had that itch. And anyone that smokes or have smoked in the past, you know that itch. It’s like a moment in time when all you can do is breath hard and (in my case) shake a leg violently while visions of how long you can hold out start penetrating your brain telling you things like everyone’s an asshole! Or, what’s in the fridge?
I digress.

Last night, because that itch turned into a rash, I walked out my front door only to be greeted by not a spider’s web (which I’m really glad it wasn’t) or a few mosquitoes or a moth that would bounce and dance around the porch light. None of that was in my face. Instead, in my face was a fly. Yes…a fly; the type of fly heralding from the Order Diptera (Greek for two wings).

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Where the hell is he going with this?”

Let me tell you… if it buzzed about my head, no problem. If it flew right into my eye, I’d be okay. But this fly – and we’ll call it, Dippy – without any regard to my safety, went straight up my right nostril! I shit you not! Right up there with the buried treasure.

So, instinctively, I pinched my left nostril closed and with all the wind I could generate, I shot that little guy right onto the ground. I looked at it for a moment then got all… “icky” like inside. Those things eat shit, you know. Then things got really weird.

That there fly, Dippy, got up from the ground, brushed itself off with four tiny legs and took to flight all the while, I heard its little voice say:

“What the hell, man!”
“What do you mean?” I retorted. “Who flew up whose nose here?”
“You walked into me,” it said. “I had a bee line (ha… bee line) and once I have a bee line, brother… watch out!”
“Whoa,” I stopped short of trying to place blame when it dawned on me… this is a fly. I’m talking to a fly; the pest of all pests. “Wait a minute.” I said. “Are you talking to me?”

It buzzed about me at eye level. I could tell that it was as angry as I was, but as my annoyance slowly subsided (because of my ZEN garden), I was left only with a very strange sense of bewilderment and uneasiness. Suddenly, I felt something very odd. Dippy had friends and it had many of them.

It was like a swarm of tiny Valkyries came out from the twilight. They were everywhere. And I know I distinctly heard the unmistakable sound of a battle bugle. They were after me! And the only place I could get to was my car. I sure wasn’t going to bring them in the house… my wife would kill me. So I ran like there was no tomorrow.

As I fled, I waved my arms frantically. But it was all for naught. I felt itty-bitty pinches – like they were ramming themselves into my body without any regard to their own lives.

I finally got to my car and breathed hard. They all landed on the windshield making it very difficult to look outside. Then one thought occurred to me… how the hell am I to get back in the house? Do I wait them out? Do I take my chances and run again? As I thought things through, I could hear the door handle lift up. They’re trying to open the damn door! What kind of flies are these?! They’re mutants, I tell you!

I locked the doors and held silent. Maybe they’ll just leave me alone. I closed my eyes wanting so much for the buzzing to stop. Wishing for this all to just go away. Wanting and wishing. Then suddenly I heard an itty-bitty cough – an *ahem*, if you will. I opened my eyes and saw Dippy standing atop the steering wheel, glaring at me. Its four legs crossed over like a mother upset with her toddler that refuses to clean his room.

What do I do now, I thought. What do I do now?