Kindness I’ve Never Forgotten

A 22-year-old in a tank top in a Metairie, Louisiana ice cream shop should be care free. That's what I think. I'm sure were things on my mind. I might have gone for ice cream because of the humid heat that covers you like a wool blanket anytime you're outside.

If I wore a top that showed off a generous part of my chest and then I let ice cream drop there, a judgmental person might say I had it coming. I honestly don't remember.

Whether I gave this bee a reason or not, it landed right on my tender flesh.

Sometimes things are outsized in childhood memories. But I was 5 foot 7 by my middle teens. I have no reason to believe that I am remembering this bee inaccurately, other than no species of bee exists that is as large as what I am picturing. You have to go to Australia to meet a nasty creature that huge.

I remember staring down at the bee, frozen in terror. Have I sounded like I'm remotely rational when a bee lands on my exposed skin? I hope I was too dignified to make a noise. I think my plan was to stand as still as possible until the bee flew away, which is often my plan in bee encounters.

The women was older than I was and had children with her, probably children who didn't want bees on them either. Either that or it was compassion. I have a vague sense that I was being annoying. Maybe I did make noise.

Whatever the motivation, her motions were swift and without hesitation. She swiped the bee off me, I moved backwards and the bee flew off.

I hope I bought her ice cream, another thing lost to memory.

But I've never forgotten her.