Begone gross grungy guest!

I’ve got a houseguest.

Arrived through the patio screen door that I left open briefly yesterday. My bad.

He’s made himself quite at home. Flits about as he wishes.

Displays no intention of leaving. He’s in fact downright rude about it. Laughs in my face while evading my attempts at his departure.

Rude. Annoying. Doesn’t leave me alone but won’t get out. A true pain-in-the-ass guest.

The housefly.

What is a fly’s lifespan? This I ask myself while my morning coffee brews. He tries to hone in on my ritual. He’s discovered perched alongside the kitchen sink. Smirking, challenging “swat me if you can.” 

Unprepared for his haughty arrival, I lock my sight onto his position and standing still stretch ninja-like for the nearest weapon for a swatdown: a folded moist used sheet of paper towel.

Not exactly a B2 bomber.

Aim. Arm raised.



Miss him by 2 hairs. Quick clever bastard.

He’s somewhere here.

Probably hanging out in a corner plotting his next step in a Strategy of Annoyance. Smacking his gross grimy chops over potential of water or food.

He won’t get any. Or precious little.

See, my houseguest picked the wrong girl to tangle with. I am a CLEAN freak of the highest order. Every inch of my studio apartment, from floor to ceiling, is spotless. All the time.

Even the kitchen sink’s usually wiped dry — to deter cockroaches.

They’re due any day amid this fast-warming Arizona climate and abundant goodies in this massive apartment complex. Heck, dumpsters alone offer more bountiful feasts than even armies of cockroaches could finish off.

There’s an image to wash from the brain.

A fly’s lifespan is about a month, according to google.

It’s commonly said a fly lives only 24 hours inside a residence.

Total bullshit!

He could stick around for 2 weeks, depending on conditions.

Odds of that are damn low for my houseguest in my extreme cleanliness and orderliness. Good old-fashioned German genes to the hilt!

Arizona flies are known for being plentiful, tough, aggressive. Would hafta be in this rugged brutal climate.

I’m just as tough, no, tougher.

What my guest failed to take into account is my ability to construct an arsenal. A fly-swatter, spray, a strip, for starters.

Even a Ziplock baggie containing water and several pennies hanging above an entry’s supposed to repel the dirty bastards. May give that a go outta simple scientific curiosity.

Regardless, the fate of my gross grungy houseguest is sealed. He’ll leave by force of nature or my hand.

And in less than the proverbial three days in which guests, like fish, begin to smell — thanks Benjamin Franklin for that contribution to mankind.

Moral of the story: Leave a screen door opened for no longer than necessary. Arizona flies are strong, speedy and resilient. Like the gunslingers of the old Wild West.

Bang bang bye bye fly!