Mosquitoes: A True Story?

Although this story may sound contrived, let me start by saying that I stand with the mendacity of what I am about to write.

One morning last week, I went to get into my truck, but a horde of mosquitoes swarmed me.

Before I could get the door shut, the pesky little carnivorous winged buzz bombers filled up the cab of my truck.

As I turned the key to start the engine, all I could hear was the humming of a million or so wings. I would compare the sound to that of a chainsaw running at half speed through a ten-inch log.

The sound was so loud it took me a few seconds to realize the engine had started.

By this point, they had found me and were starting to gnaw on any exposed skin they could get their little hypodermic needles in me.

As bad as it was on the inside of the truck, it was worse on the outside.

The word must have gotten out through the mosquito gossip line, “we got one big enough for all of us to eat,” had to have been the story they told. I could see the line forming at the corner of my house all the way to the truck.

There must have been someone trying to break in line, because a big commotion started in the middle of the line and some of the smaller mosquitoes in the ruckus started falling to the ground, dead.

It was time to make a decision.

This is when quick thinking and fast decision making come in handy, one of my few characteristics.

The choices were simple; make a break for it and head back into the house or drive away with a load of hungry mosquitoes.

I figured running back to the house would only antagonize those outside the truck or even worse; they might call in reinforcements to waylay me before I made it to the front door.

So, I decided to make a break in the truck.

I know you remember those old television commercials where they would have a clear container full of mosquitoes and a guy would stick his arm in it and the mosquitoes would attack him.

Then he would spray, “OFF,” on his arm and he would put it back in the container and the pesky little varmints wouldn’t even offer to land on his arm.

Well, the cab of the truck looked a lot like that container on T.V.

As quickly as I could get the truck out of the yard and down the road I rolled both windows down.

It took a few minutes, but I finally got all of the buggers out of the truck. There were a couple that tried to hang on to the door, but a good whack with a copy of the county budget ended their stay in the truck.

I dreaded all that day about going home and encountering those same hostile mosquitoes when I tried to get back in the house.

I cut the engine off and coasted into the yard as quietly as I could. The truck drifted to a stop near my front porch.

I sat there for a couple of minutes watching the corner of the house waiting to see if they planned to ambush me.

Everything got eerily quiet. It was now or never, I thought as I grabbed the door handle and snatched the truck door open.

I ran to the porch and yanked the front door open, jumping inside just as the screen door slammed shut.

I had made it, I thought as I sat down on the couch.

After catching my breath, it dawned on me. I had left my notes in the truck.

I write a lot of my articles at home, especially those on a meeting night. I needed those notes.

It took me a while to talk myself into going after the notes.

I made it to the truck with no problem, but just as I reached the porch, I felt something hit the side of my head.

Wham, then a thud, I watched as one of the largest mosquitoes I have ever seen in my life spiraled to the ground like a World War One biplane that had been shot down in mid-air.

Although I had a small knot on my head, I came to my senses and stepped inside the house.

Again my quick thinking had saved me, I pondered as I turned my computer on to start writing.

As I sat at the computer, I felt something move in my hair.

I reached up and knocked at it. I looked around just in time to see another big mosquito fall to the floor.

Things are little bit of a blur here, but I do remember jumping up and looking for whatever I had just knocked off my head.

I do have one phobia. I don’t like spiders.

While I was looking around on the floor, what I really did not want to find was a spider. Give me a mosquito any day over a spider.

Thankfully, I found what I had knocked out of my hair. It was another one of those kamikaze giant mosquitoes. It turns out there had been two of them that had attacked me.

I found my shoe, and after nearly beating a hole in the floor, I killed the creature.

Not to be morbid, but the thing was full of blood, and I had a mess cleaning up the splatter and hauling off the carcass.

I looked up mosquitoes on the Internet to see if there had been any other sightings of this extra-large phenomenon.

The one that I buried in my yard, I believe, is an Aedes albopictus (Family Culicidae), the Asian tiger mosquito or forest day mosquito. It is characterized by its long black and white striped legs and small (unless full of blood) black and white body. The tiger is a recent addition to our 176 different species living in North America.

It could have been the Ochlerotatus Canadensis; I’m really not sure.

Mosquitoes are the most dangerous animals on earth and account for more than 2 million deaths a year. This is my reasoning for wanting the thing out of my house.

I believe the Asian tiger mosquito mates for life, and that may have accounted for the light knocking I hear at my door since that night after I… well, you know.