Killer-bee killer

Gentle readers, if you are offended by the wanton stomping of stinging insects, read no further.

There is a certain professor at my institution who teaches a much-lauded class about and involving honey bees. He is adored by students, but administrators look upon him and weep. I think both reactions are based on the fact that he spends much of his time acting like a 14-year-old.

Yesterday, it was a gorgeous, windy day. I left my casement window open so it could slide back and forth on its useless metal track, occasionally banging closed. I heard a buzzing up near the flourescent light and assumed it was one of the giant flies we get in the office (presumably b/c we usually have some sugar-based bee-nirvana out on the conference table.

Later, I noticed it was a bee. By then it had landed on the carpet and wasn't moving. I like to think it was about to expire anyway, but just for good measure, I stomped it good several times. Bee allergies are common, so I probably saved someone's life. And yes, I got a secret pleasure from taking out a little aggression on one of Dr. X's busy little friends.