Fly on the Wall

While getting ready this morning, I noticed a little tiny fly hanging out on the wall next to the mirror. As I bounced from vanity, to closet, to desk, back to vanity, he was still there. In the same spot. Not moving.

“Oh to be a fly on the wall in that apartment,” someone somewhere might be saying. And they’d be jealous of this little guy.

Put in half a day at work, hit the gym, home for a nap and as I entered the bathroom at roughly 4pm, I’ll be damned, he was still there! He must be dead, I thought. Maybe the roommate sprayed it with hairspray. Or maybe it’s a drone. I left it there and spent the rest of my afternoon sweating, facebooking and waiting for the sun to go down.

Finally cool enough to do some yoga and a shower. The fly was gone. Huh. Maybe it was just napping earlier. Lazy fly.

I soap up and rinse my hair. As I open my eyes, I see the fly again, this time on the tile opposite the shower head. He’s still here. Watching me bathe. Maybe it’s a drone connected to one of those porn sites, “voyeuristic-girls-in-the-bathroom” kind of thing. Fucking pervert fly.

Or maybe it’s a drone connected to “them,” you know, the ones who plan to put us all in FEMA camps. What would they possibly be gleaning from watching me get ready in a bathroom? Towels decorated with the confederate flag? Weapons of mass destruction? I got your weapon of mass destruction right here! (grabs crotch)

I didn’t really grab my crotch. Sorry porn site, if anyone’s watching.

Maybe it’s a test. Will this person instinctively protect his/her property and kill the fly? I’m reminded of the scene from Psycho.

For the record, call ME psycho, but I’ll smash the shit out of a cockroach if it’s on my property.

But today, I won’t give them the satisfaction, lest I be categorized as a vigilante. I’ll keep ‘em guessing for now. Nice try Illuminati fly.