Thursday, April 07, 2016

Oh honey
After a series of English lessons via telephone with folks from Brooks Running company in Italy, I went to the kitchen to get a snack. I heard a really loud buzzing noise at the window. This was strange because all of our windows are screened, and, what's more, they have been closed for months. It was a gigantic yellow and black striped insect that, at first, I thought was a wasp. I remembered that the owner of the apartment kept some spray upstairs in the mansarda so I went to look for it. And then I saw two more. You don't have to tell this chronically unlucky woman twice -- I ran outside without my wallet or my jacket. 

By the time F came home, the apartment had dozens of buzzers inside of it. We called our landlord and some exterminators, but no one could help us this week. Maybe next week we could have an appointment. Say whaaat?? I called Patrizia who is my Italian inside track for all things local and she told me to call the police/vigili urbani using the number 1-1-5. When they asked me if someone is the home was allergic, I said that they might well be because conosco i miei polli and my mammina didn't raise no fool. They were there under ten minutes. F sprayed as many as he could, much in the same way he saved his house from a wildfire in the hills of Los Angeles when he was a teenager by spraying in a circular motion around him. He still bears the scars from that day, but no stings from today. Anyway they found out that there were not dozens of nests all over my house that were birthing its stinging spawn spontaneously like a scene from a horror movie, but that there was just a hole in the ceiling that leads to the roof. I had to believe them because the bees were so large that they couldn't have been born just moments before. Unless there was a time continuum, but that would be a different movie. 

The men, I think they were actually firemen, told me that the queen bee had been followed by its drones (is that a bee thing or is that Star Wars?) or followers and they got trapped in my sealed up house. They didn't even fleece us for money. They were lovely, actually. 

The funniest part of the day by far was that when I ran out of the house I saw Job downstairs and I told him about the swarm of bees. He started laughing and asked me if I were actually afraid. I said, damn right I was. I asked him if he wouldn't be just a little afraid if he were in my shoes and had a house filling up with bees. His answer was delivered seamlessly: "I am from Africa," he said. "Even if my house had 25 lions in it, I would not be afraid." I know, I know, Job, I am a wuss. 


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