My special lady and I bought a new storm door for the front of our townhouse. The previous owners either let the wind catch the door, or one of their troll-like children ran through it, because the jamb where the closer attaches has a giant chunk of wood torn out of it that is starting to rot.
So we hired a fine craftsman to come chisel off the edge of the jamb and put up a new piece of wood, to which he then attached our new storm door. Solid piece of work. But of course the condo board would never allow a white door — oh how it clashes! So I had to paint it blue to match the rest of the trim.
Paint has a bastard of a time sticking to metal, so I had to sandpaper the door and put on a first coat, which I did last weekend. Then today, which was a reasonably nice day, I put the second coat on after I got home from work.
So’s I’m halfway done when this bee-like creature starts buzzing around my head. It should be noted at this point that I have never been stung by a bee. I know, as do most people, that bees will not sting you if you don’t try to kill them. Unlike most people I actually act on this knowledge and do not try to kill the bee. I just stop moving until the bee moves on. Which I did in this case, and the bee left.
But it was all a ruse! That little devil came back 3 seconds after I started painting again and flew right into my shirt sleeve. My arm was on the painting downstroke and he thought I was trying to kill him, so he stung me directly in the big artery in my bicep. Jesus Christ it hurts! I can only imagine this is what vampires feel when you throw holy water on them. 10 minutes later I had a blotchy red spot 2 inches in diameter. 2 hours later I am still getting waves of burning agony pulsing through my arm.
So I recant my previous position of bee non-violence, and declare war on all stinging insects. I quote the new Marvel trailer I saw: My actions are not vengeance. No, not vengeance. Punishment.