Last week, as I was driving home, I was the victim of a vicious, blatant attack.
A giant bumblebee flew into my car and stung the hell out of me.
I don’t even know where the bee came from. I didn’t see him fly in my window. I presume he was sleeping off a pollen hangover in my back seat.
I’d never been stung before. There was always a morbid curiosity what it would feel like and, perhaps, a bit of fear that I might be unknowingly allergic.