The Dark Bug: Behold the power of cheese

Recently, in the middle of the day we were at a a touristy collection of shops and restaurants next to a theme park and concert venue. Being hungry and having paid $12 to park about three hours earlier, we decided to stay and eat at there. Walking through the food court area we noticed a restaurant where they sell foot-long wieners like at a nearby baseball stadium.

I ordered mine with chili and cheese, which sounded good at the time (and which cost over a dollar extra). When we got our food it was not a slice of cheese under the dog (as any good hot dog with cheese should be) but a glob of the nacho-type cheese-type product on top of the chili. (It wasn't that bad, but it was simply too much relative to the chili and hot dog.)

The seating was outdoor tables arranged on multiple levels, and most of them were occupied. We found an open one, and even started to sit, but then I noticed another table one level down in the shade. Knowing the heavy competition for tables we hurried down the stairs and just got to it before someone else took it. Score.

We watched people strolling up and down the open area as we started eating our baseball-inspired cuisine. A long red carpet had been set up down the middle, as the premiere for a new movie was to occur there later in the day; we tried to figure out from which direction the stars approached and where the press stood, etc., although without much genuine interest.

When I was not even halfway through my food I looked at my fiancée, who, looking at my chest, said, "Don't move." I glanced down and noticed a wasp, or possibly yellow jacket (it definitely wasn't a bee) hovering inches from my shirt. Slowly I got up from the chair, keeping an eye on the flying insect. However, within seconds it flew up toward my hand that still held the cheese-product-covered dog.

The cheese-product-covered dog which cost over $4.

The cheese-product-covered dog which, at that point, appeared to be what was attracting the centimeter-long, winged, yellow and black insect.

When the it flew within about a centimeter of my hand I reacted by doing what seemed the logical thing for me, a creature hundreds of times larger, to do: I dropped the hot dog.

I didn't consider that where I was dropping it had an empty chair below it, and that when it would hit the metal mesh seat of said chair that the cheese-product would spray out in all directions, including toward the aforementioned fiancée (who was cleaning up her items in preparation to leave, and not see the falling weiner), before glopping on the ground. Which is what happened.

I picked up the remains of the dog and bun from the seat, then grabbed some napkins and wiped it off as best I could.

Possibly even funnier than the notion of a mammal nearly two meters in height tossing away unfinished food* and fleeing from an insect (even one with a stinger) is this: As I grabbed the tray (with the carcass of what had been my meal resting on it) and turned to take it to the trash I noticed there was already some people waiting to take the table, despite having seen me wiping off the seat, undeterred by the globs of cheese-product lingering on the ground that I couldn't wipe up, unconcerned with the hungry wasp. (I'm not sure whether it's worse if they saw the insect and understood my actions, or if they didn't and merely witnessed me seeming to indiscriminately drop something messy on a chair.) The place was so busy that no table could be considered off-limits.

Especially one in the shade.

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* Well, something approximating food. In retrospect, the wasp may very well have done me a favor. Perhaps it was merely hovering around the dog in an effort to stop me from consuming the whole thing, in a gesture intended to say, "What the hell are you putting in your body, Doug?"

Indeed.

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The universe is a never-ending source of fascinating moments when you stop and think about it.

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Epilogue: When later in the afternoon, after we had long since left the area of the incident, we got hungry again (having not eaten enough of our attempt at lunch to tide us over to dinner), we got something from a popular fast food restaurant, clearly indicating we learned nothing about being cognizant of what we put in our bodies.

The wasp could not be everywhere.