Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Bees are jerks

I'm laying awake now reflecting on my three swollen, stinging welts and the conclusion is this: bees are jerks.

They make hives in weird places and get freaked out at the slightest deviation in their routine. In some ways they're even worse than rattle snakes: rattlers don't strike unless bothered, and at least it's all over soon after that. But bees are the aggressive kamikazes of the insect world and they'll get macho right up in your grill if you're within smelling distance, much less stinging distance.

I was out in the backyard watering the plants when I tugged the hose around a corner to the side of the house and it strained around a wooden railroad tie-style barrier. That happened to be the home of some seriously jerky bees.

As I was watering ten feet away I felt a stabbing pain in my left hand, on my thigh; two yellow jackets attached themselves there.

As I screamed and waggled away in my floral capris, dress short, and blazer, I realized I was being stung.

Worse, bees were stuck flying around between my shirt and blazer so I scrambled into the house tearing off my clothes.

And as my dad told me to run cold water over my hand... I felt something in my hair.

There were bees in my hair.

Those jerks were in my hair!

I tore not one, not two, but three yellow jackets out of my scalp before my dad administered the Wild West bee sting cure-all: baking soda paste, and liquor.

So now, after icing my wounds, applying baking soda, and drinking carefully prescribed glasses of Rioja, I'm sitting up in bed just thinking about how I will take my revenge.

Because bees are huge jerks. Are they as bad as mosquitoes? No, but they're still jerks.

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