WTD CAMP - Samples

(756 words)

The Smell of Victory ... or is that Bugs Spray?

After agreeing to Chinese Food for a Sunday night eating excursion, my wife , daughter, and I decided on this small eatery, new to our area and us. Although there was not a car to be found in the parking lot, the sign said 'OPEN' in bright pink neon . We cautiously got out of the car and were immediately reassured by a happy and beckoning hand of the waitress urging us to come inside.

Attractive architecture and a little tabletop fountain made us feel at ease as we were seated at our table. Although nicely adorned, the place clearly was a budget operation as there was no air conditioning and a noticeable hint of bug spray in the air. We dismissed these annoyances as soon as our tea and appetizers arrived and ate heartily. The food appeared hot, fresh , attractively prepared and tasted good.

About three quarters of the way through dinner, on my side of the table near the condiments, I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. Not typically bug-like mannerism since this movement was slow and sauntering - yet whatever I had seen, it was moving. Yes, as we should have guessed, I gradually focused upon a small, yet apparently unhurried roach, appearing to wave hello. Now ordinarily, when I have observed roaches in the past, they have tended not to engage in meaningful relationships with humans, so they bolt for the nearest nook and cranny available. Not this time, my exo-skeletal friend had decided to languish between the tablecloth and the sill for a night on the town , at my expense. I was horrified, not of the roach but of my family's reaction should they see my new table partner. After-all even though it was a group decision, I had driven them here. For all I knew they probably had actually wanted hamburgers or pizza or something, but I was pretty sure they hadn't desired to dine with roaches. Non chalantly, I continued talking with the family and trying desperately not to draw attention away from a very pleasant meal to an unwelcome guest. I maintained eye contact and constant chit-chat with my wife, patiently waiting for an opportunity to convincingly kill the intruder. I knew an exaggerated lunge at extermination would have revealed my secret so I had to plan my attack with as much stealth and finesse as possible. Actually, all I really wanted was the antenna waving, vagrant to go away and leave us alone. We would have gladly returned the favor, and taken our retreat in stride, as soon as practical with check in hand.

After nearly ten minutes of this mental struggle, I almost sighed out loud as the creature finally disappeared under the table. Restraint had paid off; now we could finish our meal in peace and leave. It was likely already, that we would never return to the restaurant, so it was unimportant to delineate yet another reason not to come back. Nearly a minute had gone by, when that cocky roach graced my side of the table again, staying just out of my wife's eyesight, blocked by a soy sauce dispenser. I could take no more - I had to act. I had wanted to leave peacefully but this lowly insect was now starting to taunt me. He knew I had avoided conflict yet he wanted to rub it in like some bully on a school playground. Probably out of sight there were dozens of his roachy friends egging and cheering him on to go terrorize with disdain the wimpy human. I saw my chance as my wife moved her attention temporarily to her purse. I swooped with calculating and measured force as I easily crushed his small oval body under my fine linen napkin and let it drop silently with time to spare. Oh, God the napkin - it had fallen on the seat and not the floor. I wanted the murder weapon far away from me so I nudged it over the seat so as to not be retrievable during the balance of my stay.

I took pride in knowing that I had done my species proud and sent a forceful patriotic message back to the onlooking roach gallery "Don't tread on me". The deed was done, the war had been won, and my family was none the wiser. We had all savored our meal that evening, but only one of us had truly tasted victory.

Bill Camp

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