Maggots in Montauk

Once upon a time, in the midst of a dehumanizing humid, noisy, smelly New York summer, I had a notion to see the beautiful dunes in the far away town of Montauk. It was a splendid idea, until it had to be realized in a series of daunting tasks, ranging from securing a last minute reservation at the height of the season to cleaning maggots out of the back of my car.

Did I mention maggots?

"It's not my fault, you guys are slobs"

Oh yes, those curious, industrious little wormy things that create slime from flesh when flies deposit their eggs. Enough, you get the picture.

When my car was brought down from the lift yesterday, I thought someone had accidentally stored the remnants of their shark tournament catch in my trunk. Upon closer inspection I found an overturned can of cat food just behind the driver's seat. It's a long story involving harboring a kitten on my last holiday at 'the end', and somehow three and a half ounces of 'premium seafood' became a putrid, mucousy collection of gases and swarming life.

In seconds I made the choice to ditch the floor mats and devalue my car to keep the maggots from marching forward to the driver's compartment. For worms, they're frighteningly fast.

On the way to the beach. we made more then a few stops to pick up some air fresheners. Trying to cover up the smell just made it worse. A very long ride with that smell hitting me in the face made me wonder if we should just turn around now.

"Not my fault, I'm just a baby"
 

Once we reached our destination, we parked the car, cracked the windows an inch or two and never went near it for four long days and nights.  It could have been towed for all we knew or cared.

Time to go home. The smell was still there. The stench had just gotten stronger from the heat baking down on the car.

Too much for even me to handle.