Fruit Flies

We have a few. Probably because we compost and they love that. They swarm around our little compost bin and breed, devouring the fruits and veggies we toss into it. Occasionally they venture from the kitchen to the living room, or my computer desk.

The journey usually ends there, because fruit flies seem to have a taste for bourbon, but not the stomach for it. I've found a few floating on the surface of an unfinished glass, or stuck to the bottom in the residue of an evaporated swig's worth.

Of course while I'm writing this, one has developed a taste for Haymaker Extra Pale and crashed landed into my drink. He flails about for a minute, finally his movements slow and he appears dead, floating motionless on the surface of my beverage.

I'm as average as the next guy which means I may be a snob about what I'm drinking but that doesn't mean I'd pour it out because one of God's Creatures took a dive into it. Have you seen the price of microbrew these days?

I fished the fly out with a spoon and finished typing this, wondering if I've underestimated the species' sense of irony, or if this stupid heatwave is making me loony. The beer surprisingly still tastes just like I did when I poured it into the glass, which is all right. I forgot that Extra Pales are more like lagers i.e. Rolling Rock.

Yeah, the heat is probably making loony. Oh well, society's loss, since that means I'll spend today and as many as I can get away with hiding from the sun only opening the shades after the sun's gone down.

I'm sure my witty conversational banter will be missed, at least not by the fruit flies. They're not going anywhere.