Monday, August 22, 2011

Earl

Last Monday, after having taken Sunday to explore the small town of Bethel and take myself out for a lovely seafood dinner, I decided that sitting on my ass all day was not how I wanted to spend my vacation.

I grabbed my sneaks and headed out onto the back country roads for what I thought was going to be a peaceful, scenic run. No music, just the sounds of every day living in a small country town. The trees stood silent around me, the mountains loomed ahead of me, and I was completely absorbed in the moment. I ran up and down the small hills, loving the burn in my legs and lungs on the uphills and reveling in the sensation of flying as I went back down the other sides. At one point I turned into a field, and about 30 butterflies all rose up and flew away at the same time. It was almost spiritual.

And then I met Earl.

This annoying mother bugger started buzzing around my head just after I made the turnaround to head back to the house, which meant that I was at least 24 minutes away from sanity. At first, we were cool. I figured the first time he slammed into my forehead at full speed was simply an accident: he was probably distracted by a blade of grass or something and simply was not expecting me to be there in his flight path. That's ok...I realize his brain is much smaller than mine and he probably lacks the ability to process complicated thoughts. I even apologized for not getting out of his way, imagining him to be a cute little bug.

My first impression of Earl
But Earl was not going to have my apology. Instead, Earl decided to initiate a full-blown air attack. From behind.

His first plan of action was to startle and stun me, his victim. He flashed his orange and black wings like a matador, and began to fly around  me in a spiraling tornado pattern. I could feel him brushing by my skin, and I didn't like it. I brushed him off a couple of times, making him buzz with annoyance. His hot-headed anger soon became apparent when he bit the back of my calf. By then it was all out war. I tried running faster, swatting at him, even standing still and taunting him to just try and bite me again. He hid behind a tree for a moment until my guard was down, and then BAM! he bit the back of my arm. These bites hurt like hell and were so very itchy. So now, if you would, picture me running all Phoebe Buffay style, arms and legs flailing, slapping myself and yelling at the open air around me. At that point I realized my earlier visual of Earl was waaaaay off base, because he now looked like this:

The evil reality
Meanwhile, my poor arm and multiple other spots on my body looked like this:

By the time I made it home, I was LIVID at Earl for ruining my run and for causing me bodily harm, and I stopped short on the front step. Earl had to die.

He, being of small mind, had no idea what was coming. As I stopped, I quickly turned and as he slammed right into me like the uncoordinated little angry bitch he was, I knocked him out with one punch.

Goodbye, Earl. It was nice absolute hell knowing you.

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