Adman vs. The Cricket (aka "The Little Fucker" (yeah, that's right))
A play in 4 acts

Prologue:
I don't hate crickets. I frequently appreciate their melodic chirping and the images of nature and wilderness that they bring to mind. However, if I'm trying to sleep, and there is one too close to me and too loud, it can be pretty frusterating. In my old apartment, I remember coming out in the middle of the night to one merrily chirping about 3 inches from my dishwasher. Of course, when I came closer, it scurried underneath and wasn't to be seen until the next night. At that time, I pounced on it, and left it trapped under a glass to be dealt with the next morning. Next morning came, and he was extinguished with Windex (aka, 'Spragg's All Purpose Bug Spray')

Act I (a few nights ago):
I'm lying in bed. Diana's next to me. We've finished our evening discussion of the days events and whatnot, and are in the quiet falling asleep phase of the night. But right outside my window is a cricket. He's loud. Actually surprisingly loud. And rhythmic, and I just know I'm not going to be able to sleep. I announce with vigor that I'm going to go get him. Diana scoffs gently, saying I'd never catch him. We made a "gentleman's bet", and I donned my ubiqitous headlamp, and head out into the wilderness.

The hunt is on. I walk quietly. Any loud step, and he shuts up, and I have to stand statue still for a full couple minutes before he starts up again. I grow impatient, cold (I'm mostly naked out here!) and head back to the warm safety of bed (after shutting the window).

Act II (the next night):
Very much like Act I. Fully in bed and ready for sleep before making the decision to engage in The Hunt. However, this time, I'm able to creep up on the little guy close enough that by the time he hears me and shuts up, I can actually see him. He's face first into the stalks of some bushes, his little butt in the air, poised for sweet music. I go for him, but he quickly crawls down amongst the roots of the bush, and out of sight and grasp. I'm dissapointed and heartened at the same time: I didn't catch him, but I got closer. I run inside and related the details to Diana. She's mildly impressed.

Act III (the night following):
This time, I hear the little guy as I'm getting ready for bed. My ears are attuned to his chirp and location. I don the headlamp again, and set out. This time, I'm able to, with surprising accuracy, pinpoint his location. It's actually really impressive how our ears can detect the direction from which a sound is eminating. I pull back the cover of some brush, and there he his, frozen in my light! He looks up at me, knowing that the jig is up! I pounce (wondering if crickets bite, or if they have sharp things on them that will poke me). I get my hands over him, but he wriggles free, and jumps on me (which I can only assume was his way of showing off), and then away. Most non-triumphant. Again, I relate my story to Diana and receive adequate encouragement and comments about my cuteness.

Act IV (tonight):
Diana's doing homework. I'm vacuuming. I'm working on the bedroom, and I hear him. I swear to god he's taunting me. I finally give in, grab the headlamp, and head outside. The headlamp batteries are low. I can pinpoint his location, but when I sweep away the brush, I don't see him. The light seriously fades in like 3 seconds from semi-bright to empty at this point. Crap. I go inside and get the mini-mag light with fresh batteries. Aww yeah. By the time I get out there, he's starting a cautious chirp. I take small steps, so as not to lose my balance, and I'm able to get as close as I can without him stopping. This time, I brought a glass with me. I get close, sweep back the bush, and he's there! No time to think, and I trap him with the glass! I shine the light in there, and there he is! Pressing his little face against the glass, knowing that he's finally caught. It would be so easy at this point for him to wriggle out if I wasn't careful. I drag the glass towards me, and that gathers a layer of loose dirt inside the glass, which makes it easy to scoop my hand under.

I immediately run inside and show Diana (still doing homework on the computer). She's very impressed, and encourages me to let him go somewhere in the front yard. Which I do. When I let him go, I put him on my hand, sit down, and let him crawl on my leg. We share a moment, both of us reminiscing the cat-and-mouse game we each love to hate and hate to love. After a moment, he makes a break for it into the front yard bushes. I let him go.

Epilogue:
I learned some things over the past few nights. I don't like being kept awake when I want and need to sleep. Cricket chirps can be muffled with surprisingly few blanket covers over your ears. Human ears are surprisingly good at pinpointing an invisible sound source.

"Who's house? Run's house!
Who's house? Run's house!"

I'm out.