Fruit flies and English Lotion...

We've had the smallest ever fruit-fly issue in my office lately...


We've taken to clapping the little beasts between our hands. You can randomly hear CRACK!s and cries of "Got 'em!" throughout the day. Makes we ladies feel very Amazonian, or like Martial Arts Masters, like catching flies between chopsticks.


My coworker got 3 in a row the other day. I was feeling good. Their was obviously something in the air (other than the flies).

One of the little beasts entered my no-fly-zone. I fixed him in my predetor-like gaze. Your life is forfeit, I thought at him.

He circled lower. I followed him with my eyes. Emboldened by my stillness, he landed on the pump of the bottel of lotion I kept at my desk.

I froze, keeping him in my scope. Brilliance falls on me like lightening every 2 or 3 years, and my plan of attack rolled out before my eyes. I immediately concurred with the epiphany and slid my hand slowly across my desk and over to the base of the lotion bottle. it was about an arm's length away.

I wrapped my pincer-like fingers (weapons of death, I thought accurately to myself) around the bottle and began drawing it nearer to me. My Nemisis didn't move. Puny beast! I thought, arrogantly sitting there as I draw you into the event horizon of your doom!

He was close now. I was sure I had him. All I had to do was...

With squirrel-like speed I swung my other arm around in a full arc (for I have an amazing conceptual understanding of physics) and aimed to hit my target dead on! Surely I would - no, had won the day! Sew my name on the inside of the collar baby, the battle was mine!

Contact did send a substance splattering everywhere, but it wasn't the crushed remains of my rival. No, I hit the fly's landing pad (aka, the pump of my lotion bottle) with laser-scope accuracy - and sprayed lotion all over my computer keyboard, exposed desk, lap, shirt, and some parts of the floor. After a moment of frozen disbelief, surveying the carnage and computing the data, I erupted into the biggest belly laugh I'd experienced in months. For some reason I'd thought the pump on my bottle was locked - an irrational thought, given that I never lock the pump, it just sits on my desk.

I cleaned up, then jumped up and told everyone I could find what had just happened. It was one of the best days of my life. Let us thank God for laughter!