Sunday, October 23, 2011

If this doesn't getcha going like a good poke in the eye

I'm not even sure how to say this... so I'll just start. Whoever put the elastic in sweatpants legs was a genius.

Situational context: I was helping my friend Aaren and his buddy Dave, mount the front fenders on his Unimog which could totally be in preparation for all kinds of zombie apocalypse awesomeness...

Anyways I had just returned from another quick run to the hardware store for 8 more nuts and bolts... and while I stood there watching Dave tighten the remaining screws and finish a smoke I felt a prick on my knee.  I rubbed it, it felt a little like a thistle pokey which kind of made sense... I mean I had been kneeling a lot while trying to convince that first fender it would be much happier hooked up than single. 

But something wasn't quite right *frowns*.  I knelt down and stuck my hand up my pant leg as unobtrusively as far as possible to see if I could grab the pokey thing from the inside... like when you get something stuck on the inside of your sock, and nothin'.  Just then my two cups of coffee finished percolating, so I headed in for a pee.

So there I am, sitting there... peeing... and I take a look at my knee (I can multitask like that), and just as I decide that without a doubt it's a bite mark a fricken WASP crawls UP OVER MY UNDERWEAR ONTO MY SWEATPANTS and bbzzzzZZZTTttzzZZZ's at me!!!!!!

If I hadn't already been sitting on the toilet peeing... I would have peed my pants. As it was I just about had a little cardiac and passed out. You know that wash of cold dread that comes from somewhere older than the sum of your experiences... and you literally have the span of time between thoughts to *not* panic?

That happened.

I didn't pass out. I didn't scream like a girl... and I didn't panic... much. I brushed (albeit hurriedly) the wasp off the edge of my pants, and decided that sitting on the john was definitely a tactical disadvantage as I just barely refrained from the urge to grab the it with some toilet paper and flush it... Visions of all the potential points of things that *could* go wrong with this deceiving simple scenario streamed through my head, including what would happen if I got stung, jumped up, and tried to run out of the washroom while tripping over my pants screaming like a little girl.

Yeah, that would be great for my tough girl reputation... This is the stuff tabloids are made of, so why am I telling all of you? *rolls eyes* because I still can't believe it happened, and its too damn funny not to share ;)