So I went to Austin and came back to find that the cicadas haven’t all died off yet. And they’re out in force now like they’re pissed off about something. Maybe my insidious mockery of their species (Ed. note: he doesn’t know what the word insidious means and don’t bother correcting him because he never will), but I somehow doubted. I’d say they’re swarming now, but I don’t really think they could form a swarm. When I think of swarms, I think of organized schools of creatures moving together as one. These guys aren’t nearly as organized, which makes them more annoying, but less likely to be the leading role in an NBC made-for-TV horror movie. It’s really gotten to the point that I see other insects around and my first thought is like “Hey. You’re not a cicada! Who the hell do you think you are?!?” Like grasshoppers should cease to exist for a month or something. I’ve actually had two run-ins with cicadas since I’ve been back. Both happen to be moderately humorous, which is to your benefit.
Tuesday, I was coming to a stop sign and I saw a cicada headed on a trajectory that looked like it would lead it right into my window. I thought about skidding to a stop or swerving, but then I thought that was a slight overreaction, so I just ignored the cicada path flight in hopes that it would bank left or something. I’m not going to let these ignorant fuckers dictate how I stop at a stop sign. So I stopped and sure enough the bastard flew right into my window and conked me in the head with a hammer (OK, maybe not) and it still freaked me out like I was a little 3rd grade schoolgirl. Thankfully I swatted it out the window in my epileptic fit of “get it off!” So that was Tuesday.
Today was even funnier because it involved a third party. I got pulled over today for rolling through a stop sign that I roll through everyday. It’s at the bottom of a hill and my brakes are so shot, I can feel the drum solo from Bonzo’s Montreaux playing in the wheel well when I try to stop, so I feel no need to put further wear and tear on my car just to dignify federal law. I refrained from telling the cop all this, despite the fact that I was drunk off my ass at 9:30 in the morning (no he wasn’t). Anyway, I pulled to the side of the road, and I hadn’t learned from yesterday or countless near misses I’ve had, to drive with the windows up for these few weeks. And I happened to pull over right next to an extremely high cicada traffic area. So as I’m ducking into my glove box to get my registration, one of those icky fuckers takes a B-line for my head (again) and kamikaze dive-bombs into my car. I freak out (again). But this time I’ve got a situation to handle. So I manage to lose the cicada in the car and I continue to fumble for my registration.
The cop comes and asks for my license and registration. I tell him I’m working on it and that there’s a live cicada in the car and not to freak out if it flies up at him. This was really just a courtesy because I’m sure whether he was warned or not, he was gonna freak out if the cicada came up from underneath the tape deck and dive-bombed him in the head. So he chuckled and asked if I knew why he pulled me over. “Because I rolled through that stop sign that I -…” and I stopped myself just in time, despite the fact that I was high at 10:45 in the morning (Ed. note: Dustin likes to lie a lot. Good luck separating the truth from the bullshit (Ed note 2: Not only do I edit my own material, but I do it as I type it, which isn’t really editing at all. My English teacher is probably rolling over in her grave right now. Except she’s still alive, so she’s probably just rolling over in her bed. Sorry about the rant, but I’ve been hitting myself in the head with a bat for the last half hour).). [Where the hell was I?] Long story medium, he gave me a warning. I don’t know if it was because I worked at UMBC, my humorous and jovial demeanor, or the fact that he made me play with his testicles for 10 minutes, but I got off (I’m not going there). But now there’s a cicada in my car and it gives me the willies because I couldn’t find it. As the cop was writing the warning, I actually got out of my car and looked under the seats for the damn thing, but to no avail. So I’m gonna have a dead suffocated or heat-stroked cicada in my car. And maybe I’ll have about 500 more of them in my car in 17 years. That would probably shoot the resale value to shit.
“You know if you pinch their wings together, they can’t move.”
I think this quote is funny because a 23-yr-old Aikido brown belt TA has owned up to knowing a submission hold for cicadas. I’m sure his students are proud.
Using the AC for a few weeks,
Still Standing Right Here…