Life is often about balance. Today in town I had a tricky 3-way to juggle:
- Keep my KFC Double Down away from a very determined and persistent wasp
- Not swat wasp away so as to avoid being stung, but equally not kill the wasp
- Not look like a tit dancing around in the middle of the town square swaying my arms around like a weirdo
I think I pretty much failed on the third one, and discovered I’d splatted myself with sauce during my moving from the bench to the steps on another side of the town square. I didn’t see where the wasp went off to in the end but thankfully it did give up. I even stayed still where it originally found me and held my food pouch that had a bit of sauce and KFC coating on – noooooo, the wasp tried to settle on my chicken. Killing the thing was never going to cross my mind – I was outside. How has a wasp not got the right to be outside with me? But I’ve never seen one so fucking determined – it kept trying to get the chicken all the way to the other side of the square. Jesus. And yes people were looking. Oh well. Wasp lived, and I got to finish my chicken – we’re all happy.