MEMOIR | HUMOR
The Great Stink Bug Escapade of the Shenandoah Valley
Virginia’s hostile hostel inhabitants
I decided to go on a road trip. I didn’t have anywhere in particular to go, but the wintry weather of my PA suburb had lost its trees and dipped into a frigid enough lull that I went full speed ahead anyway.
Where that woefully aimless road led is a hostel in the middle of backwoods Virginia. A smelly, insect-laden and artlessly-designed hostel in the middle of nowhere, Virginia. My circumstances are less than fortuitous, but the universe works in wonderfully weird ways.
On my luckier days, rolls of the cosmic dice have landed me in some pretty interesting places. But today, as the cubes finished their erratic wobble, I found myself in a momentous face off against the odiferous alien inhabitants of my drab new dwelling.
Stink bugs are an enduring phobia of mine. The practical understanding that the creatures mean no harm doesn’t stop them from filling me with a more visceral fear than the hairiest of arachnids or most haunted of houses.
From the smell, to the atrocious micro-thuds, clicks, and vibrations that alert people to their presence, there’s no denying the creatures are something infernal. The abrasive bleats, ticks, and clacks that…
