He Wasn't the Bee's Knees

The date with the beekeeper was a buzzst. Yea…I love me some lame puns. I could go on and on about how horrible it was, but I’ll break it down into three defining moments that drove nails into the date coffin.

He picked me up with the intention of taking me country dancing. Apparently he was trying to play up to my southern roots.

Strike #1- Car Conversation:
Beekeeper: How about we get some ice cream on the way. (IC is like the Mormon version of an alcoholic drink.)
Me: no thanks. I gave up sugar for lent. (I actually gave it up till my birthday, and I was waiting for him to remind me that not only am I not Catholic, but Lent had ended several weeks ago)
BK: Huh. Isn’t Lent that Jewish holiday?
Me: (dumbstruck) Nope, it is Catholic.
BK: Yea, I can never keep track of those other little religions.
Me: Catholicism and Judaism aren’t little religions.
BK: What is Judaism?

Strike #2- Car Conversation shortly after the one above.
BK: Did you know that I can sing just like Garth Brooks?
Me: I had no idea.
BK: (Turns on his Garth Brooks Hits album and begins singing “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places” at the top of his lungs)
Me: (I dial my roommate on my phone and put it down by the door jam in the car. I’m hoping that she can hear what I’m having to deal with.)

Strike #3- Conversation while dancing
Me: I don’t like being dipped because I’m terrified that the person won’t be able to pull me back up and I’ll be dropped on my head.
BK: Maybe if I dropped you on your head, we’d be the same smartness.
Me: (Did he just use “smartness” in that sentence? I don’t think there are enough head drops to make us the same smartness.)

After strike 3, I realized that I couldn’t possibly pretend that I liked this guy long enough to talk him into taking me to his honey farm. (This is not a euphemism. I really am dying to go put on a bee suit and smoke out some bees.) His company wasn’t worth the amazing pictures of me keeping bees or the free honey.

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Here are some great examples:

A Bird in the Hand...

I went to Austin this last weekend to attend the AISD (Austin Independent School District) job fair, which was a totally bust. You stand around in long lines, so that you can spend 60 seconds trying to sell yourself to someone who may not even be in a position to hire you; lots of the people working the booths we’re random Social Studies teachers or coaches. It was like speed-dating for the job world, except a low cut shirt and witty banter don’t get you anywhere…which pretty much leaves me groping for some sort of intro that doesn’t involve me bragging about what a great teacher I am or listing my qualifications like a resume recording. Anyway, I’m pretty sure no one is going to hire me.

So, I was flying back today feeling totally discouraged, when I get to my airline gate and see people wearing those hospital/hygienic/paranoid facemasks. It is a man and a woman sitting and reading books, acting like nothing is different about them. I don’t know why this pisses me off, but I’m just a little sensitive right now and the swine flu craziness is just adding to my fury. They are shutting down schools, publishing hundreds of scary stories, and now wearing masks. This is ridiculous. There has only been ONE death, ONE death of a baby that came up from Mexico! There are thousands of people that die every year from the regular flu and they don’t shut down schools. Heck, as a teacher I get a little giddy around flu season because it means that my class sizes go down. I guess the media doesn’t have anything better to report on. Brittany Spears has been on good behavior and Brangelina haven’t spit out any more children (at least I think so, though I can never keep up with them) so we’ve been at a loss for good news.

Anyway, I’m sitting at the gate waiting to board and contemplating the swine flu, when I hear several little dove coos. I continue dreaming up possible new news stories and assume that some birds have made a nest in the airport rafters. I finally get on the plane and I’m walking down the aisle to my seat and I hear the dove coos AGAIN! At first I’m thinking I’m crazy because I look around and no one else seems to have noticed. I finally turn to the guy next to me and ask, “Hey, do you hear a bird cooing?” The guy looks at me, then my boobs, and seems to be trying to figure out of this is some sort of new pick-up line. “Nope,” he replies. Then it coos again, really loudly. I turn to the lady behind me and frantically ask the same thing because I’m trying to figure out if I’ve totally lost my marbles. I’m practically yelling at this point, “Do you hear birds cooing?” A guy, the one wearing the swine flu mask that is already seated to my left, turns to me and speaks through his mask in muffled tones, “Yes, there are doves under my seat.” Great, the only other guy that hears them is the nutjob wearing the pig flu mask and he claims they're under his seat. I look at him quizzically and let my eyebrows do the talking. My facial expression should read, EXCUSE ME, WHY DO YOU HAVE DOVES UNDER YOUR SEAT?! He mutters something about being a magician and says that he needs them for his act. Of course he does…

So, I spent a three hour flight listening to the cooing of doves and trying to figure out if maybe I could get a job as a magician’s assistant because there is no way I’m getting hired in AISD and the market is in the tank and I have no other job leads and the pig flu isn’t strong enough to wipe out a large amount of people so that I could get a job and I’m sure that a low cut top and witty banter would be useful in the field of magicianry...plus I’ve read all the Harry Potter novels, so I should have a leg up on the other assistants.