For a long time there was this Bee Hole (a beehive in a hole, I guess) in our back yard. I used to watch bees buzzing in and out of it. One day, when I was 8 or 9, after visiting the Natural History Museum and seeing the bee hive in the Insect Room, I had the brilliant idea to take a long, clear, plastic pvc tube and stick it in the nest. In my head I imagined studying the bees as they happily crawled through the tube. It was a genius idea. So I went and got the tube, walked over to the bee hole (which didn't seem too active) and shoved it right in the hole. Then I looked directly in the tube.
For a while nothing happened. Then suddenly I felt the tube in my hand vibrate and, as I peered in, saw in a split second, a very pissed off bee zip up the tube and fly directly into my face. It appeared the bees were not happy with the new entrance, and had sent a "negotiator" to discuss it with me. In a millisecond the bee flew out, clung to my forehead, stung me eight thousand times and died. Ow. Bee stings hurt. Then a moment passed... OW! OW! OH JESUS NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Bee venom was literally coursing through my brain! It was like a brain freeze times infinity and it lasted for almost ten minutes. It was the most painful thing I had ever experienced in my life. Later that day I removed the tube and ran like hell.
On a different summer day (after the brain sting) Austin (my brother) and I were hanging out in front of my uncle Tom's house where there was another bee hole. I wasn't a big fan of bees for obvious reasons, but I wasn't really afraid of them either. I knew from experience (getting stung in the forehead) that if you leave them alone, they won't attack you. So I stayed a good distance away and stood pretty much still. However, my brother thought it would be an awesome idea to throw rocks at the bee hole. So he started throwing big brick sized rocks and big rock sized bricks at the bee hole while I yelled at him to stop or face the wrath of the hole bees. The hole bees were getting angry. With each rock the air around the bee hole became more and more opaque with swarming bees. Finally my brother lunged a huge rock directly into the eye of the hurricane (of bees). Then all hell broke loose.
Every goddamn bee in that nest headed straight for me, the guy standing perfectly still a quarter of a football field away. As they swarmed me, I ran like a man on fire. Finally I had outrun the larger portion of the bees, with a few hundred still clinging to my shirt, hair, and shorts. I spent the next few minutes getting stung by bees, and smacked by my brother (who was trying to kill the bees on me). Austin had been untouched. I had sustained more bee stings than I could count.
I learned a painful lesson from that experience. Always throw rocks at bee holes when other people are doing it, because you're getting stung either way.
Bees were my #1 fear when I was little.
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