Jake and his Hot Trans Am Part 7

When I was a wee tyke living in Virginia, my Dad took it upon himself to rid our old homestead of a yellow jacket hive. My Old Man was very inventive in the process. First, he built a small fire in front of the stump where the yellow jackets were living, second, he had a can of bug spray he zapped each hornet as they emerged from the hive thus killing them. The smoke from the fire made them disoriented so he was able to pick them off with ease without getting stung. Pretty smart if you ask me.

Anyway, days later I was out playing and I noticed more yellow jackets coming out of the stump. Well, being four years old, not knowing how to build a fire, or having a can of bug spray, I did what came naturally to a young child.

I pulled out my tiny manhood and proceeded to pee on the hive.

Of course, the yellow jackets took great umbrage to my desecrating their home and they swarmed out angrily and began to chase me back to the house. 

I ran as fast as my short legs could carry me to the front door of the house, only to find the door locked! Now usually we didn’t lock our doors at home, so maybe my parents were having some “personal time” to do…you know whatever. 

The yellow jackets caught up with me in mass and began to sting the crap out of me as I cried and pounded on the door. Eventually, the door was opened and I was yanked inside, as my parents swatted the hornets off my badly stung body. I was laid up in bed for several days and my parents had to call a doctor to come over and give me a shot.

Now, I am sure readers will be able to discern a moral to my story but what I learned at that early age was twofold – One, that sometimes it is better to leave things alone, and Two – to never pee on a  yellow jacket hive!

Well, I wish I had remembered the first part of the yellow jacket lesson before I called Donna. But, such is the folly of youth, one tends to forget painful experiences, valuable life lessons over time – as you soon shall see.

Now as far as the reasons why I called Donna I can’t recall them. I suppose it was for several reasons –  because I liked her, I was bummed that she wouldn’t be hanging around with Jake and I anymore, that I was pissed off at Jake for dumping her for that tight ass Christine. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Donna was Foxy and now available.

I called her Sunday morning and she sounded surprisingly okay. I guess women get over emotional stuff faster than men. They cry, eat a little Haagen Dazs, talk to a friend, and then they are ready to move on. Men, on the other hand, are the true romantics and tend to take things more severely. They mope, drink too much, cry in public, and curse that “Bitch” that broke their hearts, etc.

Donna asked if I had seen Jake, how he was doing, and blah, blah, blah. Not to paint my friend as a heartless prick, I skipped the Christine Bradshaw relationship and said he was doing ok, not great, but fine enough.

Donna then asked me if I could come over later in the afternoon as she wanted to talk to me about “Something Important” and wanted to do it in person. I was like no problemo –  I’ll be over later in the afternoon. And that was the end of the phone call.

Ok, this was getting “weird,” I had two friends in the past 36 hours tell me that they had really “Big News” or “Something Important” to tell me.  So what was up with that?

And what the Hell does she want to talk about at her parent’s house? I wondered.

Well, I soon found out.

But I’ll sign off for now

To be continued…

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