Don’t Get Stung

Follow to close and you might get stung!

"Get off my butt!" I muttered while adjusting my rear view mirror to decrease the blinding headlights from the car behind me. For some reason the driver felt compelled to see how close he could get to my bumper. The only problem, I had three cars in front of me. I kept them, however, at a safe distance. I was tempted to slam on my breaks but didn't want to deal with the repercussions should he hit me. My mind raced as I thought of all the times students had followed so close and the hazards created by such behavior.

During the summer: "Yikes... Bees... Run!" The column of hikers scurried every direction running into each other frantically trying to avoid the attacking hornets. From a distance it looked like a scene from a Laurel and Hardy movie. I had told them to spread out but for some reason they decided to stay within feet of the person they followed. Doing this made it hard to avoid such obstacles. I knew that the first person would disturb the ground nest but the hornets wouldn't be active until he or she was well beyond the entrance. Usually the third person felt the wrath of the angered insect. When to close, the forth and fifth hikers wouldn't have enough space to avoid the protectors of the nest and they too would feel the unpleasant burn of the hornets bite.

During the winter: "Oh, man that is cold!" The snow hit his head and traveled down the back of his coat. The hiker in front of him had just stopped and leaned against the tree branch, freeing the snow that was resting on the boughs far end. As the snow melts and chills his spine, the space between him and the forward hiker increased. A lesson well learned.

Anytime: "My eye, my eye!" The branch had swung back hitting the hiker in the face. He had been warned over and over to back off of the person in front but didn't listen. Now he had an abrasion on the eye's cornea. Although these abrasions often heal within 24 to 48 hours, they can be very painful. The days pleasure hike was now focused on getting home and dealing with an injury that could have been avoided.

Do you think the tailgating driver has ever been stung, had snow go down the back of his or her shirt, or been hit by a rapidly moving branch? I doubt it. If he had, he wouldn't be following so close. I often wished I had James Bond's car. Driving down the road all calm, cool, and composed with a drop dead gorgeous blonde sitting next to me. How fun it would be to just casually reach over and pull a lever that releases a swarm of angry hornets or a swinging branch. That would show them the error of their ways. I'll bet they would think twice about following me that close again. Or would they?