CRICKETS - AND I DO NOT MEAN THE BAR

Crickets, the annoying little creatures that chirp all throughout the night, are everywhere this time of year in Waco. They truly infest the city. To the point where it is damn near impossible to avoid stepping on one when walking down a sidewalk at night. If it is a damp area of town, like near the river, they pretty much cover all concrete areas and will be a pest to society until the winter.

At any rate, after a little workout at the SLC (note to self, never work out at the SLC at 10 p.m. during the school year... amateur mistake), I stop by the local convenience store on the way home for some Gatorade. As I arrive at the store, I avoid the literally hundreds of crickets on the side of the wall and on the sidewalk.

Once inside, I make my purchase of three, 24 oz. bottles of Gatorade, the cashier places them in a bag an I am on my way. Carefully avoiding the crickets, I climb in the car and head on home.

As I pull into the driveway, my thirst hits. I blindly reach into the bag and feel, not a Gatorade bottle; but, something crawling inside my hand. As a reaction, I am scared shitless. I basically jump five feet out of my seat and hurled whatever it was inside my hand at the wall. Splat.

Poor cricket. Never had a chance once he entered my hand. I look inside my bag to see if anymore had made there way in. Sure enough, in the 15 feet between the store and my car, two crickets had jumped into my bag. Gross. One suffered the ultimate fate, the other one I just simply let go. Oh, and then I rigorously washed my bottle of Gatorade. I may not even drink it. I am still debating.

I guess there really is not a lesson here, other than watch out for the crickets. They are trying to take over Waco; oh, and my Gatorade bag from the local BP Amoco.