Well, one bee, specifically. I just walked down to the library to pick up a book, then came back to the office. I sit down, cross my legs, and prepare to work. That's when I notice, due to my knee now being closer than usual to my head, that I picked up a passenger while outside: there is now a bee crawling slowly up my leg. I get up, very, very carefully. The bee seems undisturbed. Encouraged, I leave my office and start down the hallway to the outdoors. It had never seemed quite so long. I imagine I presented an interesting picture for passerbys, as I was trying very, very hard to move quickly, yet do so with the minimal amount of leg movement. I assume this is how the Monty Python "Ministry of Silly Walks" sketch came into being.
I got outside, and took inventory. One me, check. And one bee, check. The latter item, however, had shifted considerably. While I was busy fleeing, the bee had been occupied with moving to a more advantageous part on Mount PoC. It had moved upward from my knee, to behind my thigh, and was now taking up position directly on my left buttock. I had a bee on my ass. You can imagine the relative sangfroid I employed in learning this fact. And if I looked ridiculous before when I was walking, you can also imagine the figure I cut when trying to dislodge a bee from my butt without agitating it or putting my naked hands anywhere near the region in question. I'm guessing it looked something between inventing a poorly thought out dance move, and having a seizure.
The bee eventually decided that there was, in fact, no pollen in my posterior, and flew away. I breathed a sigh of relief, and offered a silent prayer to any deities with apiarist inclinations that may be in the vicinity. I trudged back to the office. It was a pointless gesture; there was clearly no way I was going to do any work today. I was far too traumatized.
Later Days.
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