Swat one, toss it out the door. Sit down in front of my monitor; here comes another flying past my face.
Where are all these damn flies coming from?
Filthy bastards; I learned how to hate flies when I lived in a rural area. Spend all afternoon fixing a meal and then see some nasty horse-fly doing the Charleston on my food. Or taking a casual stroll on the rim of my coffee cup. Doing the can-can on the top edge of the Dr. Pepper I just opened, right on that edge in front of the pull-tab opening.
But they’ve been especially annoying lately; I’m sure all my friends think I’ve gone absolutely Renfield when they come over and I’m obsessively chasing flies around the room with a swatter. “I know it’s in here; land where I can see you, dammit!”
“Calm down; it’s just a fly…”
Oh it may be “just a fly” to you; but it’s more than a mere annoyance to me. It’s an invasion of my sanctuary. Someone I didn’t invite in has chosen to trespass. This is much more than unauthorized entry; it is a violation of all I hold dear.
A germ-laden and disease-carrying insect has taken it upon itself to become my new unwanted room-mate. Negotiation is pointless; this means war.
Open the blinds and sunlight comes streaming in; I will wait and see if he tries to go out the window and swat him there. Turn off the air conditioner and open the door; maybe I can get him if he goes for the door. Hide behind my big Archie Bunker chair in the living room and assume the crouch of the big game hunter. Okay you; I can play this game all day. Show you what kind of a man you’re…son of a bitch! The fly buzzes around my head with near-gyroscope precision. Get up swatting furiously but he gets away. Crouch back down and watch the doors and windows; he’s got to make a run for one of them eventually….
Hour Two rolls by; the house is heating up in the summer sun, but I remain vigilant. A drop of sweat rolls down my forehead and stings my eye. Ow!
Drop the swatter and head for my trusty bottle of Opcon A eyedrops in the bathroom and swing my knee directly into the corner of the coffee table in my living room which drops me to the floor like a bag of sand. Unleash a string of profane obscenities that would make a Marine drill instructor blush.
A few moments of holding my knee later, I get up somewhat slightly wobbly. Open my eyes just in time to see the fly zip in front of me and head for the window. One well place swat against the pane and he’s history. Toss him out the door and tell him in my best “bouncer” voice:
“Tell yer friends!”