Fly Fishing

You know that feeling you get when you've had an exhaustingly long work week, you feel like you have an expiration date, you've reached it and should probably be thrown out? 
I had one of those. 

It was Friday and I needed something to make me feel more 'long life', so in keeping with the crazy lifestyle I lead, I invited my Gran around for a glass of red wine to kick off the weekend. 
She declined. 
So I poured a glass each, for myself and my future self - I like to plan ahead. It was a dry aromatic Cabernet Savignon with berry flavours, a hint of chocolate and an alchohol percentage. 
First sip down; pure relaxation. 
Three glasses down, and so was I. 

It was then, while contemplating the ways of the world with my reflection using purposefully pretentious largely fictitious words, that I happened to peer into my glass and noticed I wasn't the only one enjoying the complexity of tannins. 
Assuming it was a bit of crisp from the bag I'd been eating, I stuck my fingers in to pinch it out, and realised that it was either a very dark, very squishy rounded crisp with wings or, a very drunken fly. 

Outraged and disgusted that I'd had to share, I left the fly on the counter, grabbed my glass, and emptied it's contents. 
With a freshly poured drink in hand and my bitter disappointment being drowned by each new sip, I noticed my wing-ed friend wandering around in circles, flapping, eyes bulging (which may, or may not have been due to the alcohol - I didn't ask). 
He seemed lost, dazed and confused. 

Wine not appreciate the small things in life? 


Having helped others out of similar situations in the past, being very against drunken driving and assuming drunken flying is just as bad, I decided he needed a wingmam. 
Someone to help him sober up before he tried to get to wherever he was trying to go. 

I wouldn't want him to be in an accident; fly paramedics would come out, he'd be put on a tiny fly stretcher and given feeler to feeler.....no-one needs that on their birthday - it might have been his birthday? 
Maybe he was out celebrating, away for the weekend 
a fly fishing trip? 
Or a bachelor party, his last night out as a single fly.....I was wondering why he was wearing a tiny tutu, tiara and a sash saying "Buzz off or buy shooters". 
But then I'm not up on fly fashion, it could've just been what fly's wear on a Friday night? 
I don't know, I didn't ask, and he was probably too drunk to get a coherent answer out of anyway. 

  So I was left to figure out how to sober up a drunken fly. 
My first inclination was to get him water, but I don't keep miniature fly sized glasses, and was a bit sceptical about using a human sized one - it's hard enough trying to get a drunken person to drink from one of them, let alone a drunken fly. 
I considered holding ice and letting the water drip onto him, but I've seen someone sobered up that way before, and I thought he'd been through enough..... 
So water was out. 
Which led me to the next logical solution - food. 
We had crisps, so I took one out and pushed it next to him. 
He hobbled around it a little and seemed unimpressed - I took that to mean he didn't like cheese and onion. 
I was trying to help him out, he really wasn't in a position to decline due to flavour preferences! 
At this point I was ready to walk away; another stuck up, drunken fly....who needs 'em. 

Turning to leave, I suddenly realised that the size of the crisp in comparison to his body, was like trying to eat a truck-sized snack. 
Nursing a guilty conscience, I apologised profusely for judging him. 
He was pretty good about it, but seemed equally uninterested in the smaller bit of crisp I broke off. 
So, resigned to letting him sleep it off, I crossed my arms on the table and lay down - why not join him? There was nothing else I could do....
It was just as my eyes were drooping that I heard him furiously buzz, and looked up just in time to see him flap his wings and take off. 
Zooming past my face, he went around my head and smacked straight back into the wine glass. 
Clearly not the smartest, but a trooper, he got right back up, flapped again and flew out of the window. 

Unsure of where he would end up, and a little concerned for his wellbeing, I consoled myself with the idea that he probably stumbled home to his significant other, she nagged him for going out drinking again and told him to keep it down.....he would've said something like "shbuzz, buzzshmr, buzzshlur.....", and passed out on the couch, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. 



Breaking my Bloginity

I'm an old Facebook veteran and I've found that although the status updates aren't restricted, I'm not keen on boring my friends with essay long status's, unless I think it's really necessary. 
Or I'm drunk, in which case I'm pretty sure it'll be fairly entertaining anyway.....
As a recent Twitter follower, and still getting used to being restricted to 140 characters, the freedom of writing endless amounts of nonsense here, wasting even more of your time on social networking, seems pretty exciting. 


akjgnvh ig utvngiu hgk ajfh gkfjvhnf asdjfhadfkg jhreuinvaij aifjoivn ......I was right, that was awesome.