So its evening in Vermont, a cool misty drizzly evening where there’s nothing I’d like better than to stay inside with a nice book. Instead I’m wandering through the drizzle to go send young insects to their doom. Why?
Well… I’ve never liked wasps much. I have affection for most animals, even the ones I eat, and have no problem with sharing the planet with millions of beetles, for instance.
But the goddam wasps have go to go. Once one got in my damn shirt. It must have blundered in there on its own, but it suddenly it decided it didn’t like and instead of leaving the way it came, it decided to sting me. Repeatedly. I don’t like wasps.
So in my evolutionary biology course, OF COURSE I get to play cruise director on the wasp Love Boat. After trying to tell which of several little bastards the size of a pencil led were male and female and what color their eyes were, I put them in a tube so they can get it on.
Of course, it’s been two months since I saw Miss Misery, my lovely girlfriend. I’m horny as hell and this isn’t going anywhere until she graduates. But the wasps get to have all the sex they want. Super.
So the repulsive things split their own skin open and crawl around. We give them time to do the deed. Unfortunately, blots upon arthropod kind that they are, they like to lay their eggs inside the living tissue of unsuspecting baby flies. And I have to be a party to this by throwing the poor unsuspecting infants to their destroyers.
Just as I am about to leave, the phone rings. Its Miss Misery, long distance. We haven’t talked in ages. What honey? No, I’m sorry, I have to go drop larval flies on my mortal enemies after helping them get laid. I love you too.
Personally, I could give a fuck about evolutionary bio at this point. In fact, this was going to be the last lab I attended before I dropped the class. Unfortunately, we started the fucking lab that we will be working on throughout the semester. With partners. So if I bail some innocent schmuck is screwed. Fuck.
So I’m pretty pissed and I head out without looking out the window. No socks, no jacket. It’s drizzling, that fine spray that is just light enough that you feel like a fucking jackass if you go back for jacket.
So I trudge over and give the bastard whoresons their damn larval flies. And I trudge back.
Fucking wasps.
–John