What I didn't do....

I asked Dr. Lovely Daughter why me? Why do these things happen to me?  She answered that these things happen to me so that I can write about them.

I say no thank you!

Okay, here’s my story.

I was shopping at a store where they sell name brand clothing for less, of which, I will omit the name because of what I didn’t do.

Clearance racks call my name when I enter stores. “Psst, I’m over here,” they taunt with winking eyes. But staying in control, I visited the purse section first, THEN answered the call of the clearance scarf and belt rack.  There were lots of beautiful scarves and I handled them, flipping this one here, parting others to see those in the back. It was during one of those partings that it happened; I felt something scratchy, something not right with my hand. I wasted no time in pulling my hand back from the mass of scarves to see a huge beetle clinging to my hand. It took everything in me not to scream, but I did flick the approximately two and a half inch by one inch beetle (including legs) to the floor.

Remember that I live in a rural area? I’ve seen many beetles, but I’ve never seen a beetle like this. Now back to my story.

There it sat on the floor, a shiny green and tan bug with a flat body, a cross between a “June” bug and (let’s say) a "stink" bug, teetering on beetle legs to face me.  

What did I do?

a.       Step on it with my fancy flip-flop with a chance it might jump on my foot?

b.      Step on it and risk everyone hearing the humongous crunch it would cause and after seeing the mess make me clean it up?

c.      Tell the store manager that there is a prehistoric beetle sitting on the floor, big enough to eat all of Springfield, and I don’t know how it got there?

d.      Scoop it up and take it outside, to save the other patrons from the eww factor and save its life?

e.       None of the above

If you chose “e.” you are correct. I did none of the above. Instead I walked away like nothing happened while obsessively rubbing the creepiness off my hand and onto my jeans while keeping my eye on the bug as it watched me. I vowed never to touch another clothing clearance rack again. Never.  I doubt if I keep that promise.

Do you ever put "your life" in your writing? Does Murphy bug you like he bugs me? What would you have done?