I went out to the mailbox this afternoon, humming a tune and eating a piece of cheddar cheese (as one does on a lovely day). After retrieving the handful of junk mail…and I only call it “junk” because each piece was a waste of time for so many people–the sender, the printer, the mail carrier, the garbage collector, me–not because each piece wasn’t perfectly designed and created from God’s own trees…I noticed that the garbage can from our bi-weekly donation to the landfill was standing, empty, waiting to be carried back to its little home to await another sack of crap.
As I approached, randomly flicking through the aforementioned marketing materials in the vain hope that just one of them might magically transform into something of use to humanity, I noticed a small bee or yellowjacket (dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor not an entomologist!) inspecting our empty trash receptacle, looking (I presume) for its now-missing contents.
Normally, I would have given the insect a wide berth, assuming that it would realize its tardiness and zip off to join its compatriots to catch up with the garbage truck, whereupon I could safely retrieve the can without provoking an incident. However, I was emboldened by the previously noted loveliness of the day and by my cheese. For it is a fact that no one comes to harm when eating cheddar (or so I had been told).
I approached the rubbermaid can carefully, shifting my burden of mail to my cheese hand and slowly picking up the lid from the ground. With a grunt and a ferocious kick, I tipped over the garbage can, thinking that my nemesis would flee from my shock and awe tactics. But no. The little black and yellow bastard simply descended deeper into the gaping maw of the bin.
Just as I had given up hope of dislodging him, the bee (yellowjacket, hornet, wasp, whatever) flew to the entrance of the capsized can, and I saw my chance. With all my might, I closed my eyes and swung the garbage can lid toward my enemy, creating a mighty wind with which to drive him off.
To my horror, when I opened my eyes, I saw the bee (let’s just fricking call him a bee, ok?) RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE, saying “You want a piece of me? I’ll cut you, old man!!!” And I did what anyone would have in that scenario…I fell right flat on my ass, mail and cheese and garbage can lid flying in every direction like a big, fat grenade of random crap had gone off on the sidewalk in front of my house.
And that, dear readers, is why I will never go outside again. I hate nature.