Moths Are Tiny Spawns of Satan

     This is a story from several years ago, one that I shared on Facebook in just a few sentences. But it was actually the start of all of this. My father, enjoying the story so much, pulled me aside and convinced me to start writing. I told him about how I'd always wanted to be a writer, and he encouraged me to give it a go. Fast forward about three years and now I have finished my first novel, and I intend to at least finish this trilogy before I give up on a career as a professional writer.

Mottephobia - The fear of Moths

    I have a severe hangup on moths, as my wife and friends love to point out. While I've never been overly fond of them, my fear stems from my time working as a used car salesman (which is btw, the worst job in the world). During the summer the year I spent slinging Subarus there was some sort of mass-birthing event here in Butte Montana. Suddenly there were millions and MILLIONS of moths, and they stuck around for several weeks. But at night time, there would be clouds of moths around every street light in downtown Butte so thick thick that no light from the lamps could reach the ground.

    Thing was, when I arrived back at the dealership the next morning, all the cars would be covered in moths, some that had died during the night, but plenty that had just landed there and were napping. My job then became to sweep the moths off the tops of the cars.

    Here's the thing. Moths don't fly well. They zigzag haphazardly through the air and crash into whatever might be in their way, which extremely often ended up being my face. By the time I had finished brushing off two cars, I had diagnosable mottephobia, and the mere thought of sweeping off another car made me sick to my stomach.

    

Dumbest Magic: the Gathering card ever.

    I do have one friend that can relate to just how horrible moths can be, and his story is much worse. One summer night this particular friend was coming home from work. As he unlocked his apartment door, a moth careened into the side of his face, then proceeded to crawl inside his ear. He ran screaming into the bathroom and ran water into his ear, which caused the moth to dig in deeper, trying to avoid the wet. He ended up in the ER where a bemused and astonished doctor had to remove the moth forcibly with a pair of tweezers. (I was nearly sick when he told me this story) To this day, I have never seen him outside at night without a hat that covers his ears, and I do not blame him one bit.

    Fast forward to the moth story that started it all. 

    It was the tail end of summer, the leaves were starting to change, but it was still plenty warm enough that all manner of bugs were still hanging around, including moths. After work, I had some errands to do that required some cash. I pull up to my bank's ATM and roll down my window. As soon as I do, a moth comes fluttering by my open window. The sight of this one crazily flapping demon sends my fight-or-flight reflex into overdrive.

    In panic, I threw the item I was holding at the moth, trying to shoo it away. The item happened to be my wallet. It missed the moth and went flying out the open window. I had even thrown it so hard that it sped across several drive up bank lanes and scattered the contents all over.

    The moth proceeds to fly in the car and down under the steering wheel out of my sight. In further panic, I start to stamp my feet all over the floor beneath me. I had to take my foot off the brake to do this, and so while I am having this incredible freak out, my car is idling forward. (thankfully there was no one in line ahead of me.) Once I am sure that I have stomped on every inch of the floor in front of me, I threw the car into park and oh-so-carefully peek over the seat to look for the (hopefully now deceased) moth.

    Holding my breath, and pulling my shirt collar up so I can cover my face quickly should I need to, I lean forward to see....a dead leaf. I had probably the largest freak out of my adult life over a dead leaf wafting into the car. What could I do? I had to get out of the car and collect my wallet along with all of its contents while carfulls of other bank customers waited in line watching. 

    I'm not proud of it, but I did at least enjoy sharing the story for a few laughs.