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Attack of
the Butterfly
It soared past me like a bat from hell. "What is
that?" I thought. I had just finished pumping gas and was
climbing back into my car. Before I could close the door, the
monstrous butterfly flew in behind me and executed a ten-point
landing on the armrest between seats.
"That’s the biggest butterfly I’ve ever seen,"
I thought. No way am I closing the door with that thing in my
car…"shoo!"
The butterfly was oblivious to me. "Look, I don’t
take hitchhikers!" I spewed. It didn't leave..
I climbed out, leaving the car door open. Maybe it simply
needed a bit of gentle encouragement to direct it to the door. I
couldn’t bring myself to touch it. Of course, I couldn’t
find a thing in the car to swat it with except an old church
bulletin. I attempted to nudge it toward the open door, but it
only moved to a spot further away from me where I couldn’t
reach it. .
"I’ll open the hatchback and maybe it will fly out.
Get, bug!" It bared its fangs at me. Okay, maybe it was
antenna, but it sure looked like fangs.
I went to the other door and opened it, the better to swat at
the bug. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to kill it, just to
get rid of it. The church bulletin was a pretty flimsy weapon,
but I nudged it again. Apparently, it was not impressed by the
schedule of upcoming church events, because it still refused to
leave.
"This is getting ridiculous!" It must like
sports cars. Why else would anyone prefer to drive instead of
flying? I briefly considered throwing it the car keys, and
saying, "Take it, the tank is full." No one will ever
believe I was carjacked by a bug with a fear of flying.
I was beginning to get that helpless female feeling that I
hate, but tried to devise a plan. Tear gas? Mace? 911? I don’t
think so. About that time a knight in shinning armor came out of
the gas station. Okay, it was only a guy in a T-shirt and jeans
who had paid for his gas and was headed for his pickup truck.
Who says knights have to wear armor these days?
I appealed to his macho side. "Are you afraid of
bugs?" I yelled around the gas pump.
He looked at me dumbly, and shook his head "no."
Big mistake.
"Would you mind getting this bug out of my car?" I
asked, not mentioning that a moth the size of Count Dracula was
lurking behind the passenger seat.
He came over to investigate, armor clinking. Apparently the
moth, butterfly, or whatever it was, sensed I was bringing in
reinforcements and decided to retreat. With a swish and flutter
of wings, it suddenly took flight and shot out the door right
past Lancelot’s face. He ducked and we watched in wonder as
the moth did a hammerhead and several double loops before it
streaked away into the wild blue yonder. I half expected it to
leave a trail of smoke behind.
"Well, guess you don’t have to do anything after
all" I said. He seemed relieved to be excused from duty.
I quickly slammed my car doors and sped away, keeping an eye
on the rearview mirror for a butterfly with fangs coming up
behind me at 80 mph. So far that is the last I’ve seen of the
thing, though.
The butterfly is probably back at the cocoon right now
telling his mate what a bad day he had, and how he is late
getting home from work because he accidentally flew into the car
of a crazy lady who assaulted him with a church bulletin.
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