speaking of asses . . .

waspsting.jpg

"SON OF A  . . ." I spat as I brushed a curiously lethargic wasp off my ankle. The insect was flung out of the way and under our little cafe table. It continued to crawl around on the ground showing zero interest in flying.

"Did it sting you?" 

"No."

Boyfriend went to teach the wasp a lesson - by way of killing it -  

"Leave it alone, it's fine." I said. If I'm nothing else I'm a lover of living things. Cough* 

We watched wasp for a bit as it continued to drag its lazy thorax up our table leg. Gradually we lost interest - coincidently right around the time our sandwiches arrived. We happily ate for a bit until as if looking for more sandwich, I peeked under the table.

"Where'd it go?"

Boyfriend shrugged - he looked under the table also, but the wasp had disappeared. At least from view.

"It's probably making a home in my purse." I said as I sipped my coffee. Within a minute I was on my feet, flailing around and screaming bloody murder. The wasp casually dropped out of my skirt. 

"GODDAMNIT! It just stung me in the ass!" 

Clutching my right cheek I began hobbling around in circles. The table next to us ignored me beautifully despite the holy scene I was making. Finally Boyfriend thoughtfully asked if I was okay. Shaking my fist at the wasp who was still casually strolling between cafe tables - Boyfriend pulled me indoors.

"Ow! - Ow! - Ow!" I shrieked with every step, dragging my scene inside Boyfriend quickly ushered me into the bathroom. 

"It's stinger is still inside my dress it keeps stinging me!" 

"Just calm down and be still."

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!" I continued wailing while trying to tear off my dress. 

I stood in the bathroom in my underwear while Boyfriend inspected the stabbing.

"Yup, that's where he got you." he said helpfully, poking at my bottom - "There's no stinger you're fine." Using quick thinking - in the fashion of adventure movies the world over - he began sucking out the venom.

"It's not a snake bite." I commented as he looked up, lips firmly planted on my ass. (where they belong) 

He began inspecting my dress while I uselessly focussed on the pain. He didn't find the stinger so he slipped my dress on over my head and packed up our gear. Still loudly complaining as we left the cafe, Boyfriend turned to me.

"I told you I should've killed it."