Bee Story
I was working at my computer when I heard the angry buzzing of a bee. He had managed to find his way into the house and now wanted out in the worst possible way. I don’t kill insects, unless you count mosquitoes and horse flies, and then only if they are biting/have bitten me, so they deserve it. Anyway, I went running into the kitchen to get a spatula and a drinking glass. I pull off this rescue maneuver frequently, so I’m kind of an expert at it. First, I wait patiently for the bee to land on a window pane, then I trap it under the drinking glass, and finally, slide the spatula under the inverted glass to contain the bee before releasing it back outside.
So, I trapped the bee, who seemed more agitated than most bees in this situation, and then I swiftly slid the spatula between the glass and the window pane but then something went terribly wrong. At first I was confused because I thought I saw the bee drop from the glass onto the windowsill below. But that was crazy, because when I looked, the bee was still in the glass! Were there two bees? I was horrified to see that what fell to the windowsill was only the bottom half of the bee. The bee’s top half was under the spatula, still in the glass.
It actually took a several seconds for the bee’s top half to stop its angry buzzing.
At first I was pretty freaked out. Clearly, even though it wasn’t my intention, my actions caused the bee’s gruesome demise. Initially, I felt sad, and terribly guilty, but then, I remembered the way the incident unfolded.
The bee was out of control from the start. I employed a time-honored method to help him help himself. If he hadn’t been so freaking impatient, he’d be zooming around my backyard right now, pollinating crap or making honey or doing whatever it is that bees do in their spare time. But not him. By working himself into a frenzy, he effectively transformed the spatula from a doorway to freedom into his own personal guillotine. Then, even in death, he insisted on holding onto his anger even longer than he held onto his bottom half.
The world is short one massively pissed-off bee. Somehow, I’m having a hard time feeling too bad about it.