Shoo, fly, don’t bother me
On vacation I had to make some tough, executive decisions such as:
“Should we play volleyball or toss the Frisbee around?”
“Should we go to the beach or hang by the pool?”
And, of course, “Margarita or mojito?”
It was nearly a perfect week with delightful company; however, it was also fraught with peril. Being me comes with its own set of hazards. I cannot escape paradise unscathed.
A wave hit me while my mouth was open and I ingested a shot glass full of ocean. P.S. Ick! Also, I cut my fingernail too short and it hampered my sandcastle building abilities. Hashtag me at “First World Problems.”
Then, one day on the beach, I met my nemesis: Haematopota pluvialis, the horsefly. Dunt Dunt Da!
In the Outer Banks, the horses run wild, and so do their stalkers. There are more than 40 species of fly in North Carolina. I’m just guessing here, but I can tell you for certain that it wasn’t your mama’s housefly. It was a fly so big it cast a shadow – a long, menacing shadow.
For some reason, I became the creature’s intended target. It chased me down. I was like Io running around the beach, chased by an evil pest.
Side note: According to Greek mythology, Io was a beautiful woman who had an affair with the king of gods, Zeus. However, when Zeus’s wife, Hera, the goddess of marriage (ironically), found out about the encounter, she turned Io into a cow. Hera wasn’t satisfied with the punishment and sent a maddening gadfly to pursue the heifer around the world to torment her, or something like that. Who am I? Bullfinch?
Additional side note (or side side note): I just compared myself to a cow. I hope I don’t get angry letters from my Hindu readers. P.S. I could have some!
I ran into the waves to avoid being bitten by this terrifying troublemaker, but I only went in waist deep and the horsefly bit me on the top of my head. It has a bite strong enough to pierce horsehide; surely it could even penetrate my thick skull. It hurt like a bee sting. I replied to the bite by saying, “(string of R-rated expletives deleted)!” which I followed up with, “(Second string of expletives, also deleted).”
Naturally, everyone thought I was a crazy person, because I was flailing my arms about, running around in a serpentine pattern and swearing. From far away, that says, “nut job.”
Yeah, I looked crazy until the beast went after another target. Suddenly, I was Paul Revere, a hero warning everyone of an impending enemy attack – not by land or sea, but by air.
By the way, it was much funnier to watch someone else flail about, running around the beach in no particular pattern. I watched several friends try the serpentine maneuver, followed by the run-into-the-ocean maneuver, to no avail. This guy wanted our blood. We united against our common foe, and eventually it zipped down the beach to menace easier targets. All things considered, I’d still rather be on the beach fending off a horsefly than sitting in the office.