One morning a few years back, bees were swarming outside of my house. Something to the tune of... gee, I couldn’t even give an estimate... it was a pretty big house, and the bees surrounded it like a cloud. I was trapped! I didn’t really know what to do, as I was home alone at that point. I just hid in my room and hoped they would go away, but... boy, was it scary (I’m allergic to their stings!). I could hear them buzzing all day. Sometimes they a few would fine their way in, and I’d panic like an idiot trying to avoid them.
By the afternoon, there were only a few of the left. Phew, I thought! Problem solved.
I was wrong.
The bees decided to move in. The best part, of course, is that they lived in the very walls of <i>my room</i>. Bah! They would move out in the morning—a constant stream of bee emitting from a corner in one a window’s base for the early hours; and then, they’d come back in the evening.
I could hear them in the walls—humming, buzzing, moving around... it was actually quite crazy.
They did come with a pleasant smell, well, my whole room smelled of them. It was quite sweet, and kind of homely, but due to the constant exposure to it, and considering its source, it made me start to feel sick eventually.
They would also come out at night, if I were up late and had the lights on; I don’t know, I guess they thought it was the sun or something. Bees would ram into it for hours, and sometimes fall onto the floor... or onto me. Now, those were hot Australian nights, so I would be shirtless, and then... as soon as those little claws dug into my skin I would just freeze in trepidation and not move until it would leave—and, as you know, if a bee touches your skin, it still feels like it’s on you well after it has left. Well, I feel that way anyway.
It was risky being in that room, but I couldn’t move, and some things were worth the risk.
Yes, I remember. No... that’s another story.
Anyway. We called the landlord, since he insisted that he would take care of any bug problems we had (he was actually a fairly useless Greek man. He came to deal with cockroaches before, and he failed miserably. He also... oh dear, that’s another story.) Bah, we should have just called in the professionals, but... he was... well, what’s done is done. He evaluated the problem, seemed to make out as if he knew what to do, and then he said he’d be right back as he needed to fetch a few things. He never came back.
Fortunately I only got stung twice during the time the bees and I shared together.
The lease on that place ended before we got rid of the bees. The landlord didn’t want to renew the lease, and neither did we. The bees won. Apparently they left a few weeks after we moved out.
Unfortunately, I have not the wits about me to proof-read or polish this post up in any way so... I gotta apologize for any errors p.