Today I had a harrowing adventure that has inspired me to start blogging again. Probably mostly because I'm a little narcissistic and just telling every single person I see about what happened isn't enough to make me feel like I'm getting the attention I deserve for having undergone such trauma as I did today, and if I write a blog post about it I can pretend that the world is reading it even though no one is. Except maybe my cousin who has a really boring job.
So, the story is that I got attacked by a giant, killer bee in my own bathroom.
The scenario: I am taking a shower. A hair-washing shower, so that means a pretty significant time investment. As I'm showering I hear some buzzing and I assume that it's my gardening-crazy neighbours weed whacking or something and refuse to allow myself to admit that the buzz sounds much closer than that. When the shower is over I pull back the shower curtain only to see that my tiny tiny bathroom has been taken over by the biggest, scariest looking bumble bee on the planet! It is going to KILL ME!!! This thing is big. Like I make an a-okay sign with my hand where my index finger and thumb are joined and THAT's how big this freaking bee is.
Naturally the first thing I do is panic and close the shower curtain again. Then I try to formulate a plan. My bathroom is way too small for me to just walk past the bee and leave the bathroom. It will kill me. Especially since it's starting to fly around a little more erratically now, and I can see through the clear spots in my shower curtain that it's closer to me than it was before.
I initiate the first step of my plan: I panic and turn the shower back on so that I can spray the bee if it tries to get inside. Then I contemplate whether or not I should just spray water randomly around the bathroom, hoping to hit the bee and disable its flying abilities so I can escape. It would be sort of like cleaning the bathroom really thoroughly, right?
But the thing is, I can't do this. I can't bring myself to open that shower curtain again and risk the bee flying RIGHT INTO MY FACE. Also, if I just spray it with water and run out that means it's still alive in my bathroom, and that it's angry. So instead I stand there petrified with the water running for like five extra minutes (on Earth Day no less - sorry planet! Maybe I won't shower tomorrow to make it up to you) trying to figure out what to do. I am sure that my sweet-smelling shampoo will attract the bee straight to my head. I peak out again and the bee is in the sink. THIS IS MY CHANCE! I quickly hit it with the shower water (it's a detachable shower head, by the by) so it can't fly away. I turn on the sink taps full blast and expect to see this monster bee swirl down the drain and out of my life forever.
Unfortunately, I have neglected to remember that it is a SUPER BEE and that it wants me to be dead. It's in the drain, but keeps trying to crawl out despite the water coming down on it. So then I up the ante and turn the shower head back on it as well, so that the sink pretty much fills up with water. This has to do it. No. The bee is still trying to get out of the drain. I fill the sink again. The bee is out of sight.
Or is it? I CAN HEAR IT BUZZING AT THE BOTTOM OF THE DRAIN!!!! I turn the taps back on and leave them running for several more minutes (again, sorry earth) to no avail. I can still hear it buzzing around in the pipes. Now I am envisioning a really pissed off and wet giant killer bee crawling out of the pipes like Arnold Schwartzeneger ready to make me dead. Or (worse?) now it is in the pipes and can come out of ANY drain in my home to get me! The kitchen is no longer safe either! What have I done?
Clearly I am panicking. Water goes back on full blast and then I dump bleach down the drain too, thinking that maybe this is kind because now the bee will just die quickly instead of slowly drowning in a waterboard-torture style death environment. I know I am being cruel but I cannot help myself. I am terrified, and THIS IS WHAT FEAR DOES TO PEOPLE! Finally, after chemical poisoning and multiple drownings, the bee is silent. I think it must be dead. I stare at the sink for a good five more minutes waiting for the dramatic slow drumming to begin as it painfully yet urgently climbs its way back up the pipe. It does not.
Unfortunately, now I am plagued with fear that the bee is not really dead (since it was clearly super human) and that it will, someday come back and get me. Or an army of its brethren will come after me to avenge its death. The army of insect brethren is actually a fear I have held onto since I was a child, and there is an explanation for that which is either hilarious or pathetic. Either way, this is long enough right now, so I will save that for later.
Suffice it to say, that I am still scared of the bee. Especially when, after telling my roommate the story, she suggested that I had just created a pissed-off, albino, ZOMBIE BEE, and entirely plausible scenario. Also, there is clearly a serious security breach going on as the bee got into my bathroom while I was in the shower and it was HUGE.
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