I was reflecting on my car today. My car, a little 2001 Suzuki Esteem, does not have power windows. I'm very glad of this. Why? Because I can roll up my window ten times faster than the power motor can roll it up when I spy an incoming bee headed straight for me, intent on destruction and pain. I demonstrated this just a half hour ago. It's amazing what adrenaline can do.

I live in mortal terror of bees getting into my car. Not for any good, logical reason - I'm not allergic to them, and it's not like being stung is that big of a deal, but I am reduced to a quivering bundle of nerves when I happen to spot one a football field away, much less one that's sharing a ten foot radius with me. And God FORBID one get into my car.

Which reminds me...

Last summer I was driving my buddy Pat home. We were going through the downtown area of the small city that we live in. It's a lovely little area, good to visit on a weekend and peer through the windows of the quaint little shops and even more appealing because adjacent to the shopping area is a quiet bay waterfront park. Fortunately the speed limit is 15mph, and you're often going slower through the area because of the abundance of pedestrians choosing to cross the street wherever they happen to decide they want to instead of using the crosswalks.

As Pat and I crawled along through town, I felt something bump my leg - wearing shorts made the feeling that much more acute. I instantly got a very bad feeling and reflexively reached down without taking my eyes off the road and swatted at my leg, biting my lip. Pat gave me a quizzical look, but I was too focused on what was going on around my unprotected bare flesh to pay him any mind.

About two seconds later I happened to glance down and nearly choked. Sitting calmly as you please on my seat right between my legs was the biggest freaking bee I had ever seen. I shrieked something along the lines of, "OH MY GOD OH SHIT THERE'S A BEE!" Pat instantly came to attention, and responded intelligently with, "where is it? Oh FUCK, that's a big bee!"

Yes, thank you. I am definitely aware of this.

I'm still not sure how I managed to slowly pull into a mostly empty parking lot and park my car without hitting anyone or anything, but I did. After the car was motionless I sat still as a statue, whimpering and staring down that the biggest bee ever. I didn't know what to do, and I was convinced that if I moved, the bee was rouse itself and attack me with a vengeance for swatting at it.

Pat was my hero that day. "Don't. Move. A. Muscle." He spoke slowly and carefully, apparently afraid I would bolt like a startled deer right into oncoming traffic. He fumbled around for a moment and came up with a CD case, and slammed it down, trapping and probably killing the bee. He moved as though he was going to lift his hand up.

"WAIT!" I screamed. "I'M GETTING OUT!" I flung my door open and squirmed my way out of the car around Pat's hand and arm. "Okay," I said breathlessly. "Get rid of it." Pat raised the CD case and deftly flipped the now dead bee out of the car.

And from then on that be was referred to as the Anti Christ Bee. Epic tales would be told of the battle. I have no idea how far they've spread, but if you've heard tales of The Epic Battle with the Anti Christ Bee, now you know the real story. ^_^

I apologize if I've told this story before - I don't recall ever blogging about it before, but you never know, my memory isn't all that wonderful. ^_^