I moved into a new place a while back with a kickass big balcony that I fell in love with as soon as I saw. I envisioned jaunty BBQs where me and my intellectual yet hilarious guests would trade tales of adventure while gorging on pulled pork and laughing merrily at the quaint little Wellcome grills with tianbula on a stick that passes for “BBQ” here on the island. Oh how terribly cute and superior we would be.
Months later, my floor is covered in beer and paint cans and the balcony remains unused and untouched. My bed is right next to a window and about three months ago I noticed a wasp nest being built in the window sill outside where the balcony is. I smiled to myself because I knew a battle would be waged in the future. What little boy in a man body doesn't love to break out a spray can and a lighter for an actual purpose? "You little balcony stealing bitches going down and you don't even know it." As time passed, I kind of grew attached to the little guys. They were so industrious and their little paper nest grew in size. I liked to check in on them during typhoons or on a really hot day, "wow, its hotter than hot fuck. How you guys doing out there?" It was kind of like having an ant farm that could kick your ass if it so chose. Every once in a while I would bang on the glass just to see them get all riled up. Man, that little "wings up" move they do when pissed is so awesome. Only cobras got a better "back off" move. I started to think about ways I could use my little pets. If an assassin ever creeped into my bedroom to kill me and we were all grappling and shit, i would totally pull a sweet move where I opened the window and put his head into the nest. I know from movies that his face would swell up as he screamed and died in glorious, gory fashion. So that brings us to today. I was taking a gander at my little pretties. Damn, that nest is a pretty nice size. About 40 of the little fuckers now. I banged on the glass pretty hard and was thinking "holy crap, if I hit the window too hard and my hand went through that would be hilarious." Just as I had the thought, CRASH! A quarter of the window broke out and my hand is in the nest. As for what happened next, at least I can tell you this - I am not as old and slow as I thought. I fucking ninja-rolled like greased lighting from the bed to the floor. About four of the wasps come zipping after me. I happened to have a mosquito racket (with new batteries) laying by my bed and I grabbed it and started waving it in a crazed womanly fashion. There are only four of em so I kind of start getting a little confidence. "Let's rock motherfuckers!" I am now wielding this thing like a jedi. I nail one and sparks go flying and...get this...it flies off and turns and comes back for more. Another one dives in and I nail it. Big ZAP sound, no effect. I find this a little "disconcerting". I ran like a bitch into the bathroom and shut the door. What the hell do I do now? Well, its a bathroom so, yeah, I took a shit. I can hear buzzing outside the door so I just keep on shitting and try to decide what to do. I get a call from my friend. "Hey, dude. You want to play tennis?" Ha! You have no idea. After a few minutes I go back into my bedroom and they are gone. I grab some cardboard and duct tape and tape that shit up. Great, now I got ghetto window. Where the hell is that "huan boli" guy when you need him? So now I got glass all over my bed and ghetto window and a date. This should be interesting - my first date where I actively try not to get lucky. Yea me!