It's a Bug!

The four of us were leaving a friend's house after a long, lovely dinner. We stepped out into the sultry night air. The cicadas buzzed madly in the trees. She One and I opened the doors of the vehicle the four of us had arrived in. The dome light came on. She One shrieked and jumped back.

"It's a bug!"

I am not as afraid of bugs as some of my girlfriends. I removed a sandal preparatory to using it as a weapon of bug destruction. "Where did it go?" I asked, standing outside the opened shotgun door.

"Down there!" She One indicated the coats lying on the floor of the shotgun position.

I was carefully moving the coats, in search of the enemy, when She Two and She Three arrived. She Two opened her door (back seat, driver's side.) She let out a bloodcurdling scream and jumped back. "Roach!"

"Don't scream like that while I'm driving," said She One. "I'll wreck the car."

I sighed. "Where did it go?"

"Right there!" She Two indicated the back seat passenger floorboard.

Sandal in hand, I began searching. She Two vanished to an unnamed place of safety. "I'll get a flashlight and we'll light it out," said sensible She Three, and went to do so.

While she was gone She One, who owned the violated vehicle, and I began raising and lowering seats, lifting seat cushions, moving floor mats. Ne'er a bug did we see. She Three arrived with the flashlight. We went back over all the territory we had just searched, this time with the light. No bug.

It was late. I was tired. I didn't want to spend the night in our friend's driveway. We began trying to coax She Two into the vehicle.

"I think it jumped out when you screamed," She One said to She Two.

"It did not," said She Two. "It went into the back-back."

Armed with flashlight and sandal, we all went around to the back of the vehicle and lifted the hatch. Three grown women (Shes One through Three) shrieked and jumped back as something fell to the driveway at their feet.

It was a neck pillow.

We inspected the cargo hold. No bug. "I want to know how it got into my car," said She One.

"It's all that organic produce you buy," said She Two. "If you had a little pesticide on your lettuce..."

Cautiously we all got into the vehicle. "I just don't want it crawling on me while I'm driving," said She One.

She Three sat on the back seat driver's side with her feet tucked up under her, avoiding the dangerous floor. I sat beside her.

"Now don't scream," said She One to She Two, "or I'll wreck the car."

"Do you want me to drive?" said sensible She Three, who had already returned the borrowed flashlight and was copiloting from the shotgun side.

But no. She One drove us home. She Two kept us entertained with tales of evil roaches she had known.

As we were getting on the interstate I said, "I want you all to know it's tempting to reach over and tickle She Two...but I don't want to wreck the car."

We never saw the bug. He was too smart to mess with the four of us.