I was sitting on the front porch yesterday, reading a book, happily minding my own business when I heard a prop engine plane approaching me. As in 10 feet away approaching me. And it wasn't a prop plane, it was a giant, huge, large, massive, did-i-say-BIG bee. I'm talking 2 inches long, and about half again as wide. It looked like a small barrel with wings. And a stinger. And antennae. I think I might have even glimpsed a tatoo. This was the mack dady of all bees. The QE2 of bees. The 747 of bees. OK, I think you get the idea, it was a big ass bee.
I froze in place because I have always had a nearly pathological fear of bees. I've only been stung once - by a wasp when I was 31 years old, but I've been terrified of them all my life. When I was stung by the wasp, it was because I disturbed their nest inadvertantly - I was trimming the hedges in the front yard when I must have also trimmed their nest. I suddenly was surrounded by wasps (it still gives me heart palpitations thinking about it now, a decade later). I was really lucky that only one managed to sting me. And the sting didn't feel like I expected, it didn't sting, it felt like a dull nail was being hammered into me.
So I know that bees don't want to sting, they just want to fly around, eat pollen and get happy. If you don't bother them, they don't bother you. I have very slowly over the years gone from trying to jump out of a car going 30 mph when a wasp came through the window [really, I did - I unbuckled my seat belt with left hand and began to open my door with my right hand, only the driver reaching over and grabbing my left arm hard and pulling me back in saved me] to trying to freeze in place when I see them and wait for them to retreat. But its the buzzzzzzzz that gets me. I am petrified when I hear that low bzzzzzzzz sound, and this big boy, its sound was BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. It was SO loud, and soooooo scary. My coping technique is to close my eyes, cover my ears, and then count to 20, by which time it is usually gone (although not always) ... and then I flee. Which is what I did. He was gone, I ran in the house, hyperventilated, and swore to myself I would not go back outside until at least November.
It was sooo nice though, just gorgeous. I decided to try again. I went back out, sat for a few minutes. Then, BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. He was back. This time, I couldn't escape. I covered my eyes and ears two times and he was still flying around the porch each time I opened my eyes. Finally, he started going down the ramp towards the yard, and I figured I could make my escape. But that was when Dogette, who was sitting at the top of the ramp, saw an irresistable toy (the bee). She perked up, which caught the bee's attention, which further intrigued Dogette. Then the bee started circling her tail, which she beat furiously, whirling in circles, trying to investigate this very interesting and noisy toy (the bee). At this point I realized I was in mortal danger. The bee was pissed off. Dogette didn't know that a pissed off bee is a tres uber very bad thing. I was too close to the front door to just jump up and run in, at least in my estimation, because I was afraid it would see my movement as more interesting than Dogette's movement, and follow me. And if followed me in the house I would have to either a) kill it or b) move out until the bee died of natural causes.
So I sat still. In a total panic. Every time I closed my eyes and opened them, the bee and Dogette were still locked in mortal combat. She was swatting it with her paw, it was dive bombing her repeatedly .... and I will admit here, that I kinda hoped that it would sting her in lieu of stinging me, I know, I am a tres uber very bad person. Better her than me, right? Then finally, the bee flew far enough away that Dogette lost interest.
Whew.
Until.
The bee now started flying in and around Dog's interesting, floofy poodle tail. He was farther down the ramp off into the yard about 10 feet away. I obsessively watched the bee and Dog. Relying on my multiple degrees in mathemagic, I calculated (on the fly, in a near panic), the optimal vector and timing of my escape. I inched sllllllowly towards the door. I needed to be absolutely sure that the amount of time it would take me to open it, back in (so as to keep my eye on the bee) and shut the door was clearly exceed the amount of time it would take the bee to fly at his top speed to my location. As I waited (and now half hoped for Dog to be stung so as to remove all danger from me, I'm a bad person, I know), the bee miraculously decided to go check out a bush farther out in the yard. This was my chance!! I bolted in the house, shut the door, obsessively looked everywhere around the door to make sure the bee didn't possess a covert warp drive and had managed to come in the house.
He hadn't.
The end.
And yes, I am the only person I know (and probably you know, or ever will know in the course of your lifetime) who can write this much about an encounter with a bee.
