Monday, September 26, 2011

Driving back from being out of town earlier today, I stopped at a little seaside town, thinking it might be nice to grab a bite to someplace unique.  Walking around, I hoped to find a quaint diner, some place that might reflect the feel of the town.  

I parked my car and got out.  Strolling up and down the sidewalks, I came across a strange vision.  I tried not to stare, not wanting to make the woman involved feel uncomfortable.  But darned if that wasn’t a challenge!

Out of me peripheral vision, I noticed, well, rather, I first heard, something being pounded against a window to a nearby place to eat.  Ironically, it was where I’d hoped to dine.  Taking a closer look at what had caused the sound, I saw a younger woman, perhaps college age, smacking this, that and everything in sight with an electric flyswatter. 

Now, you have to remember, flies move at incredibly fast speeds and travel erratic courses.  So, too was the girl in her quest to keep up with her victim.  The odd thing was, this poor girl was under the impression that she would be able to actually squash the fly with the swatter. 

This became apparent by the perplexed look on her face each time she seemed to “miss.”  The next time she’d try to clobber the fly, she’d do so with much more vigor, thinking that might do the trick. 

But here’s the thing, her swatter-of-choice was an electric one.  For those who have never seen one before, image a smaller tennis racket, thinner lip, though the device does have a definite lip.  As such, there was no way the poor girl was ever going to be able to squash the fly with the swatter.  The best she could hope for was to connect with it midair and zap it into the unknown.

The girl was unaware and determined in her I-have-to-squash-it-to-kill-it mentality.  So, as I continued walking past the restaurant, no longer interested in dining there, I couldn’t help but observe her out of my peripheral vision as she maintained the same erratic movements as the prey—the fly— she hunted.  I watched as that electric swatter came in contact with booth backs, tabletops, the wall, pictures hanging on the wall, more windows and even the cash register.

I continued on my journey to find a different establishment where I could eat, one where I wouldn’t have to worry about being hit upside the head by the electric fly swatter. Strolled up the street a bit farther before realizing there was no place else to eat.  Reluctantly, but holding out some hope, I headed back in the direction of the restaurant where the girl was on a rampage with the electric swatter.  Growing near enough to glimpse inside, I saw that she was still on her quest.  It was at this point I decided to just keep walking.  I didn’t need to eat that badly after all.  I was sure I could find someplace else farther down the road.  It was also about this time that I wondered if the gal was still trying to catch the same fly or…if the place was infested with a multitude of pesky flies. 

Ew!