There was a wasp in the Beetle this morning.
I didn’t notice until I was half a mile from home. I was on Oak Road, minding my own business, when a wasp comes out of nowhere and begins beating furiously against the (closed) driver’s side window.
Startled, I cracked open both windows in the hope that the wasp would fly out when I came to a stop at an intersection ahead.
It did not. Instead, it stayed on the lining of the car’s interior, near the window but not moving, as if it were scared to death.
I had to stop at Royal Farms for some gas, and there I used my car’s ice scraper (thrown in the back seat) to pry it lightly off the lining and set it free outside.
I have no idea if the wasp will find its way home. It could fly; it’s only about three miles from my apartment complex. But it may well die, an interloper in another wasp colony’s territory.
Whatever happens to the wasp, it’s no longer in the Beetle. That’s the important thing.