by Lindsay Carlson
“Also, I think you ought to know, I am the Queen of bees,” Eloise said.
“Ooook. And what does that mean, exactly?”
“Look, it’s not like I WANT to be in charge of all the bees on the planet. I just am. Basically, I say ‘buzz’ and they say ‘what frequency?’, I say, ‘make honey’ they say how much? It’s really pretty straightforward. ”
“I see…” Gerome said. “And they just automatically speak English? Even the African killer bees?”
“Well yes, I think there’s some magical queen quality that translates whatever I say into “Bee”, so they understand, but it works.” Eloise shrugged and popped another forkful of pasta into her mouth.
The waiter propped a platter on the table. “Dessert?” he asked, pointing at an array of confections.
“No thanks.” Gerome said, just as Eloise replied, “Yes, please!” She frowned.
“Sorry Eloise, I just got a… um… text from my brother, he’s having an emergency and he needs me to pick him up.” He waved his cell phone in her direction in apology as he stood up and started toward the doorway. “I’ll call you.”
Gerome breathed a sigh of relief as he waited outside for the valet. The guys were not going to believe this first date, which would obviously be the last. No way was he going back out with this psycho!
A moment later he heard an angry buzzing noise near his ear, then felt a stabbing pain in his arm as the bee stung him.
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