Me Vs. Bee

Yesterday I was on Liz's porch smoking with Chris, and a GIANT BUMBLEBEE came flying up and tried to kill me. I ran away, screaming gibberish. It left. I resumed smoking. The bee came back, so I screamed more gibberish and handed the rest of my clove to Chris to put out and ran inside. I could not stay outside long enough to put it out myself.. because .. obviously this bee was out to get me.

This morning I had to lay my jeans across the arm of the couch and let them air dry a little while I was taking a shower. I got ready, and as I went to get my jeans, I found the nightmare of all nightmares perched upon them.

A bumblebee.

So, of course, I screamed. Because that's the sane person's reaction to a fat, fuzzy, bumblebee.

Then I ran around. I mean, I really don't know what else to tell you. My brain shorts out when I see an insect inside the house. I can't decide what to do. Broom? Raid? Heavy object?

And I don't really think I should be judged here, because I know my similar reaction to a cricket could be considered strange, but a bumblebee could actually cause me physical pain. AND IT MAKES THE SCARY BUZZING SOUNDS.

I picked a new pair of jeans to wear, because I needed more time to formulate a plan. I panicked as I ironed them. What if it got tired of hanging out in there and came for me? It was biding it's little bee time, and I knew it. I kept leaning in to look at it, and there it remained. I should probably mention every time I saw it, I would scream as if it was the first time.

My shirt was laying beside my jeans, so I reached carefully and pulled it ever-so-slowly towards me. The bee, and I am NOT KIDDING YOU, raised up on it's.. bee haunches? And waved it's little .. bee arms. It totally threatened me! It was all "I WILL STING YOU, BITCH! DO NOT PLAY WITH ME!"

It was at this point that I wondered if I'd misread the bee situation, and it was, in fact, some crazy, fuzzy, jungle puff spider that was very aggressive and had just laid eggs under my couch.

I ran away, and prayed to Baby Jesus, because everyone knows that Baby Jesus hates bees as much as I do. Grown-up Jesus is all "Will you please get over yourself?" but Baby Jesus is all "Buzzing, eeeee!" and understood the following prayer, which went something like:

"I HATE BEES!!!!"

I went and checked, and the bee was still there. (And lo, I was afraid.)

I ironed my shirt faster than I've ever ironed before. I thought about killing the bee with the iron. Using the iron as a shield. Raid. Heavy objects. But I figured "broom" seemed the best way, because it had a long reach. So, after I got dressed, I *RAN* past my jeans (certain it would grow 80 times it's size and impale me with it's bee fangs) and swung open the front door, hoping it would fly towards the light.

No such luck. I started to go get my dad, who lives right in front of me, but decided not to, as I don't need another story he can use to make fun of me. I got the broom, and after judging the distance and a few warm up swings (accompanied by screaming, and now I'm wondering what my neighbors were thinking) and swatted the bee.

And then I screamed and ran outside.

Eventually, I came in because my keys were inside, and I saw the bee under the corner of my recliner. I worked up the courage, and stabbed at the bee with the broom. There was much screaming (from me) and angry buzzing (from the bee, now under the recliner), and I grabbed my purse and keys, locked the front door, ran to the car and slammed the door.

I had to call into work and leave a voicemail to my supervisor trying to explain that I was going to be a few minutes late because I'd been held captive by a bee for the last 20 minutes.

On the way to work I started laughing at myself. I told Dana about it, and we laughed. Ha ha ha, silly girl, scared of a bee. So silly, ha ha!

But on the way home, I kept thinking about how the bee had all day to get good and pissed at me. When I came in the front door, I swear to God I slammed it open like I was a TV cop. As if.. that would scare the bee? I don't know what I was thinking.

I looked around. I see no bee. It might be under the recliner, but I'm too scared to move it.

Seriously, do you guys think it's under there? It's probably dead, right?

Right??