The Annual Bugman Incident

Yes, it's that time of year again. I never know when it comes, but it's always just around November and it's always when I'm not thinking about it, and when it does, it's inevitable. It's the annual moment of extreme horror, when Bug Man Meets Crazy Bedraggled Author.

I always forget the day he has to show up and of course, the appointment is always at 8 am, just ripe for a seizure on both sides.

So there I was--hair uncombed, mind un-caffeined, in the middle of one of those "I'm too busy writing to care about looking in the mirror" days. Thank God, I had on yesterday's clothes. Last year, I nearly gave Grandpops Bugman a heart attack by appearing in my garage (which I forgot to close the night before) in my half-buttoned nightshirt and giving him a morning eyeful while trying to cover myself with my little bags of garbage.

This year, with my luck, they sent a young Studly Bugman. I'm imagining Grandpops had a heart attack from last year's incident and simply refused to come back to That Author's place this time. So they sent Studly Bugman, with Bug-Finding Stick and Bug-Instruments.

It's funny how we women authors are. We don't care how we look until some cute guy comes to the door. If I were a male author, freshly woken from a couple of days' of "not caring about personal hygiene because it's my damn weekend," I'm sure my first thought at looking at the manly Studly Bugman wouldn't have been, "ArgKKhhh! My hair! ArgHKKhhh! I stink!"

You have to understand. In the morning, before the Uber Me wakes up, the Entity Known As Me (TEKAM) shuffles around the house like a hunchback on Prozac. TEKAM moans a lot. TEKAM wants to just sit there and let the dogs run free. TEKAM is the one that insists on munching on a few chocolate bars with Hawaiian bread for breakfast because nutrition is whatever tastes good and chocolate tastes good every morning for some reason. Also, TEKAM tends to be monosyllabic and prefers to grunt; even the dogs can hold a better conversation than she.

A quick sneak peak in the bathroom mirror as I followed him around the place confirmed my worst fear. Yes, "it" (the Author) did look like I feared. All I needed was to leer at the poor young boy and cackle with evil glee.

Nervously, he asked questions, shining his flashlight into corners. I grunted--then changed it to a cough--and tried to make full sentences that make sense. Bad Puppy was demanding everyone's attention; he didn't like any male in the house, of course, and especially one who was walking in and out of Mom's closet, complaining up a storm with "why, that's MY playroom, so get the eff out before I pee on your weird-stockinged feet, you Bug Guy. I'm studlier than you. I have four women in this house. Mine, mine, MINE!"

"You have to excuse him, this is his first year of Bugman visit," I told the Studly Bugman, in my crackly, not-quite-human 8am voice, as I limped around behind him, trying desperately to comb the tangles out of my hair when he wasn't looking, and grabbing Bad Puppy whenever he lifted his leg threateningly.

The young Studly Bugman already had that look in his eyes. I could always tell because he kept glancing back at me nervously, probably thinking about Grandpops Bugman's horrific rendition of TEKAM flashing her wizened boobs at him, and you know it had to be a pretty horrendous sight to have given him that heart attack.

I shuffled forward, bending towards him. The Studly Bugman gave a sort of a stuck "eeep" in his throat and looked around in desperation. Relief poured out of him when he realized I was just reaching for the sofa to push it out of his way and since I was still in hunchback mode, I had to bend a LOT more than usual. I'm sure the sight was as frightening as his face was telling me.

Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I spied Bad Puppy lifting his leg because Studly Bugman was standing ON his toys and pillow. I shrieked and leapt forward. Studly Bugman shrieked.

Pandemonium ensued. Much noise. Much apologizing. Much tissueing and touching poor Studly Bugman's pants while he looked at me like I was really the Big Bad Bug. Bad Puppy...well, he was the only happy thing in the room because he made his manly statement and ran off with his toy.

Studly Bugman left with a story about That Author. His initiation at his job was now complete. I've done my part in his training and I feel the Bug People should pay me or give me a discount.

Now, where's the coffee? I really need to comb my hair....

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