1.18.2015

Meant To Bee

I failed to mention in my first post a very important fact about myself in regards to the English language... my favorite word of all time.... "bumblebee."

Why do I like that word so much?  Well, for starters when you say it- you smile.  Do it.  "Bumblebee."  See?  Ahhh...  

It definitely brings back memories for me too.  As a child, I use to swat carpenter bees that were burrowing into our house, with a badminton racquet.  Quite a demented pastime now that I think about it, but so damn fun.  I can still hear that "pop."  Ahhh...

I also like the bee itself, because it led me to my honey.  (Ba dum bump.)  For those of you who do not know the story… Let me begin…

I attended the most wonderful college on Earth- the University of Georgia.  It was an hour away from my hometown and where my best friends (both old and new) went.  This led to spectacular tailgates with people of all ages and their families.  Seriously amazing times... from what I remember.

One particular tailgate will forever stand out to me.  Everyone was talking about a guy there who was apparently having a severe allergic reaction.  Naturally, I grab my camera (the good ole' disposable kind- because that was all I was allowed to use in college) to take a picture of this creature for our "wall of shame."  (Yes, this wall existed in our apartment.  It was where we posted our disposable film outtakes of embarrassing images including ourselves, friends, and randoms.  Although, it led to a few fights- it was pretty amazing and I'm considering doing one in my current home.)

An example of something that would have made the wall: 


               (Yes, this is me.  I must have had some bad Chinese.  Please take note of the reflection in the mirror.)


Anyways, while at the tailgate, I could occasionaly get a good glimpse of this "allergic reaction guy" (we will call him Quasimodo [because that is what he looked like]) but not a picture (thanks in large part to my "high-power lens.")  

For some reason, people kept telling me things like "have you seen him when he looks normal?"  (I am assuming by normal they meant HUMAN?) and "Ya know, this guy is actually cute when he does not look like...this."  I just laughed it off with a "doubt it" and realized I should really stop hanging out with drunks all the time.

Someone finally introduces me to Quasi and after a very brief moment of shooting the shit (whilst trying my best to not look directly at what is supposedly his face) I shoot him straight.  "So, any chance I can take a picture of you?"  (I am assuming he had a confused look on his face... but....can't really tell?)  "You see... we have a wall of shame at our place and you would be perfect for it."  (The sales pitch approach seemed like a great idea after several rum and cokes.)

"Ummm, hell no."  (I would assume a glare or disgusted face followed, but again- can't tell.)

And... I am standing alone.  (Apparently, the sales pitch approach was a failure.)

But, guess who grabbed a picture!!!  (Insert my "shake it like a polaroid picture" dance here.)  It is important to note that I did not know I had gotten a shot until about a month later when I finally took my disposable Kodak camera to Kmart to get it developed.  Gosh, do you remember doing that??  It is also important to note that I unfortunately have no idea of the current whereabouts of this picture.  I am guessing it was destroyed by Quasi.

I later discovered that Quasi was Quasi because he had been highly intoxicated and on the way to the tailgate he decide to reenact a scene from The Whole Nine Yards, grabbing a bee (instead of a fly) out of the air and shoving it into his mouth.  (Because, that sounds like a great idea regardless of the insect?)  Evidently, bees do not like to be eaten by humans and Quasi is highly allergic to bees.

So, at the following tailgate, everyone is saying that the "Bee Guy" is back.  I figure out who he is (I literally had to figure it out because he now resembled a person) and we start talking.  He introduces himself (apparently I had not made much of an impression).  I smile politely and say, "Yes, I actually met you at the last tailgate."

He did the "Oh yeah- when I had that allergic reaction?"  (Yes, Quasi.)  "Yeah, some bitch kept trying to take my picture."

My polite smile morphs into my you should walk away now smile.  "Yep, that's the one.  And, I am that 'bitch' that was trying to take your picture.  Nice to meet you again."

Three years later... the bitch and Quasi were married.*  Ahhh.... bumblebee.



Buzzz,
The Bitch

*Yes, we were married (outside) on the hottest day of the year.  Literally.  But, that is another story-

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