Mosquitoes and I have history. Epic history. Our fierce and bitter feud goes back over a tenth of a century. Think of the great rivalries: the Brody family and great white sharks; Batman and the Joker; My Mum and fitted sheets (sorry Mum).
Back in 2012 in Mexico, I engaged in a legendary battle of wits with a mosquito named Gonzalo. Here he is...
Now, obviously, this isn't actually a picture of Gonzalo. I didn’t have time to ask him to pose for a series of candid portrait photographs before sending him to early retirement. So, you'll have to make do with my artistic interpretation, along with the knowledge that he wore EXACTLY this hat (the guy had swagger!).
Of course, if I'd had time to plan properly, I would have considered taking ‘before’ and ‘after’ photographs of Gonzalo to publish on billboards as a warning to other mosquitoes not to mess with me. Kind of like the ‘Don’t Drink And Drive’ campaigns of the 1990s. Possible tagline: ‘Don’t Whine And Dine!’ I think it’s got legs… which is more than could be said for Gonzalo after I'd hit him with a shoe. He left a small but definitive mark on the bedroom curtain.
I hate mosquitoes
Ask anyone with the same name as me, and they will tell you that I detest mosquitoes. They’re about as welcome in my house as a town crier in a library.
Quite simply, if one makes an appearance in the same room as me, I have to safely dispatch it with a slipper, magazine or other hardy thwacking implement, before I can go to sleep.
It has been a long-held belief of mine that alarm clock makers are missing a trick by not incorporating a mosquito-like wake-up sound in their devices. As irritating noises go, that high-pitched whine is right up there with popcorn bag rustling in cinemas, people who over-stir their cappuccinos and family members who scrape every last bit from the bottom of a yoghurt pot as if they're on an archaeological dig. JUST STOP IT ALREADY!
And frankly, there's nothing guaranteed to get you out of bed quicker than hearing a mosquito whine in your ear, either... with the possible exception of your cat peeing on your head.
Mosquito Combat Protocol (MCP)
If you're anything like me (my deepest condolences), this is the standard protocol you follow when you hear the dreaded sound of a mosquito in your ear at night...
You react impulsively by swinging your arm. Lashing out blindly and with the coordination of a stoned chimp, you slap yourself around the face, leaving a perfect handprint on your cheek. If you weren’t awake 5 seconds ago, you bloody well are now.
You flail around for the light switch, only to knock the glass of water off your bedside table and onto your half-finished crossword.
Still fumbling, you finally locate the light switch. The room lights up, blinding you like a vampire at a tanning salon. With blurry eyes, you glance around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the offending insect. He’s not there. This is going to be more difficult than you thought.
You engage in a game of insect hide and seek. But, you’re at a disadvantage – mosquitoes are masters of disguise, like calories in a sponge cake. You try to hunt him down, but he’s craftily transformed into a lamp, a sock or the March issue of Pigeon Racing Monthly. Unable to find him and feeling wearier by the minute, you slump into a chair and wait for him to make the next move.
An hour passes, and he hasn’t made an appearance. In a desperate attempt to resume your sleep, you stumble around the room randomly hitting and moving things, hoping for some movement. He, in the meantime, is having a good old giggle at your feeble attempts to find him. It’s a complete mismatch in size terms, but the little bastard is beating you.
After a further hour of searching, you spot him clinging to the wall above the window. Looking for something hefty to flatten him with, you grab Pigeon Racing Monthly (March issue) and tiptoe slowly towards him.
As you reach striking range, you take a big swing and… bang!!!! A big chunk of plaster falls to the floor. Sadly for you, the mosquito isn’t under it – he flew off a millisecond before. You’re now faced with a new challenge – concentrating your eyes on where he flies next. You go cross-eyed as he does three loops of the lampshade before vanishing into thin air.
You repeat steps 4 to 7 endlessly until you collapse onto the bed in defeat, utterly exhausted. As you lie there contemplating your humiliating loss to a creature the size of a grain of rice, your cat walks in and pees on your head. Brilliant. Just brilliant.
The latest chapter
The latest chapter of Alastair Versus the Mosquito unfolded this summer with a new protagonist. Meet Kevin (I chose the name Kevin because it reminds me of two of my favourite things in life: Kevlar and the Mandolin).
Now, clearly, this isn't actually a picture of Kevin...
It was obvious that Kevin hadn't got the memo about Gonzalo when he foolishly decided to enter my room for a meal at 2 am. I was halfway through my eight-step Mosquito Combat Protocol (MCP) when a thought entered my head:
If you spray insect repellent on a mosquito, does it develop a creeping sense of self-loathing?
For the purposes of both science and entertainment, I thought it prudent to find out. As Kevin sat on the skirting board, mocking me, I grabbed my can of insect repellent and gave him a thorough dousing. The result? He did a spectacular nosedive off the skirting board, and I never saw him again.
My conclusion: I think this insect repellent idea could really fly (which is more than could be said for Kevin...). Either Kevin fell to his demise, or he suffered such an immediate identity crisis that he absconded to find a therapist. Either way, I'm calling it a victory for science.
I'm seriously considering submitting my findings to the Journal of Ridiculous Bug Studies. So my advice to you is this: next time you hear that dreaded whine in your ear, skip the eight-step MCP and go straight for the psychological warfare.
You're welcome.
Alastair
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