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I was preparing for my advanced microeconomics midterm exam (which I just completed moments ago) late last night in my research lab on campus. On my way out of Mercury Tower, where my research lab is located, I spotted a scorpion on the same asphalt path in which I was walking.

The scorpion, as big as a truck (well, no bigger than the palm of my hand, actually - I’m just changing the proportions to reflect my perception of the beast), seemed to have difficulty walking on the asphalt: it was obviously away from its natural habitat. I was so surprised by spotting the scorpion that I stopped in my tracks to view it from afar. I imagined what it would be like to be stung by it but dared not approach it. That sudden thought of pain (and the threat of being poisoned, perhaps) snapped me out of my trance and led me to continue my long trek back to my dorm room. My dorm room far away from the dreadful palm-sized/truck-sized scorpion.

I have not seen many scorpions in my lifetime, especially ones trudging down asphalt paths, but something did seem amiss. Growing up in Bahrain, I’ve only seen scorpions on rare occasions. The only other vivid memory I have of scorpions involves the yellow scorpions that invaded our home in Saar by the dozens (another exaggeration) many years ago.

As I lay in bed last night, my head heavy with mathematical formulas that try to prove something as irrational as consumer behavior rationality, I thought of the scorpion. I felt embarrassed for being afraid of it and even more embarrassed for associating it with invasions and poison: all that scorpion was doing was looking for a home for it to rest.