Adventures with Jeff - BUGS!
Part 3 of my hopefully ongoing series on my friendship with Jeff brings us to his incredible phobia with regards to insects. He hated bugs...and eggs and tequila, but those are other stories.
Once, we had to go under our friend's raised cottage...literally raised on jacks. We had to jack up the cottage about six more inches. There was easily two dozen to do. I think Jeff lasted 5 minutes until a daddy long legs dropped onto his face. He watched from inside his car, armed with a can of raid.
On a particular nice June evening, Jeff, the Hottie, and I went to our local pub and decided to sit out on their second floor deck.
Beautiful evening, moon brightly shining, beer flowing, june bugs hovering around the patio lights, sounds of someone puking in the alley below...wonderful summer evening in Ottawa. Ah.
Anyhoo, I decided, for whatever strange reason, to order the fruit, cheese, and veggie platter instead of something recently killed, gutted, and grilled.
As the waitress handed me my platter, a red grape rolled off and landed onto the patio deck near my chair. About an hour later, after a few more beers, Jeff gave a start and swatted at a june bug that had flown in front of his face. He clipped it towards me and it landed on the deck. He asked if he killed the little bastard. I reached down and picked up the grape. Holding it 'twixt my thumb and forefingers I showed it to him and said "Nope, but I'll get it. Here!". With that, I squished the grape and let it's "guts" goop down over my fingers and onto the table. Then I licked my fingers.
Fortunately, we were overlooking the alleyway, because he never would have made it to the bathroom.
Once, we had to go under our friend's raised cottage...literally raised on jacks. We had to jack up the cottage about six more inches. There was easily two dozen to do. I think Jeff lasted 5 minutes until a daddy long legs dropped onto his face. He watched from inside his car, armed with a can of raid.
On a particular nice June evening, Jeff, the Hottie, and I went to our local pub and decided to sit out on their second floor deck.
Beautiful evening, moon brightly shining, beer flowing, june bugs hovering around the patio lights, sounds of someone puking in the alley below...wonderful summer evening in Ottawa. Ah.
Anyhoo, I decided, for whatever strange reason, to order the fruit, cheese, and veggie platter instead of something recently killed, gutted, and grilled.
As the waitress handed me my platter, a red grape rolled off and landed onto the patio deck near my chair. About an hour later, after a few more beers, Jeff gave a start and swatted at a june bug that had flown in front of his face. He clipped it towards me and it landed on the deck. He asked if he killed the little bastard. I reached down and picked up the grape. Holding it 'twixt my thumb and forefingers I showed it to him and said "Nope, but I'll get it. Here!". With that, I squished the grape and let it's "guts" goop down over my fingers and onto the table. Then I licked my fingers.
Fortunately, we were overlooking the alleyway, because he never would have made it to the bathroom.
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