Reblogging last year’s 12minds in honour of today’s 12minds, who was stung by a wasp for the very first time in all his 29 years of life. Aw, punkin.
Not bros, guys. Not. Bros.
Friday afternoon was supposed to be about victory — closing two multimillon dollar deals, reveling in success, and drinking from the cup of glory. Yes, the cup of glory was supposed to look a lot like a glass mug containing cold beer and “reveling in success” is code for “sitting at a bar and telling jokes to funny and attractive patrons,” but that’s not really the point. So, there I was: Fresh off of closing the two deals, getting driven to the airport with the client, when we park under a couple of trees, and I get out of the car.
As I get out of the car I sing “I’m a friend of all creatures — especially bees and wasps. We’ve had a harmonious relationship for 29 long years and I’m so glad about this. I’ve never been stung by them and I’ve done my best to treat them with kindness and generosity. I don’t break their hives, I appreciate honey, and I love the color combination of yellow and black. I’M SO GLAD WE’RE FRIENDS.” I was singing this along to the tune of Bell Biv Devoe’s “Poison”, naturally, because what creature - great and small - wouldn’t appreciate the dulcet tones of Bell Biv Devoe?
As I’m singing these praises of my love and appreciation of all things bee/wasp, I feel a tickling on the back of my neck. I don’t give it much thought and brush the back of my neck with my hand.
All of the sudden I yell out “SONOFA BIT—OW” and simultaneously throw down my left arm and jump up in pain. Of course, our client — a quiet and unassuming 40 year-old lady — was startled and just sortof stared at me with her jaw open as I did my own interpretative dance of what an afternoon of acid, ecstasy, and four loko must feel like.
Then I realize what happened. ME! Innocent bystander and lover of all creatures! Mercilessly and tragically stung for the first time in my life! Worse, it dawned on me that, as a consequence of never being stung before, I have no idea if I’m allergic to stings. In other words: is my face about to swell up while my throat shuts down? Because I’m pretty sure I’m not a fan of either thing happening. Sure, call me close-minded and unwilling to try new things, but if I had a choice between my throat closing up and it NOT closing up? Between my face swelling and it not swelling? Maybe it’s just me, but I decidedly go for not.
I try to collect myself after that — admittedly — embarrassing, less-than-manly, and semi-ridiculous display I just gave and figure that if I go into anaphylactic shock, I may as well do it trying to get to the bar.
Luckily, I made it. Through will-power alone (and quite a few beers) I survived my first sting! Sadly, it came at too high a cost — my 29-year streak of not getting stung is now tarnished. The world will never be the same again, my friends. But we will — we MUST — move forward with our lives and find a way to laugh again.
I’m accepting words of praise and adulation, presents, free drinks, and high fives. Also, cash.