This week Chris and I have been going around to different vendors so that we can decide who we want to use for our upcoming wedding. Planned for Thursday was a florist, gown store and then a meeting with our reception site. We also had to pick up some cake samples from a baker we are considering. Since there was a large gap between the florist appointment and the gown store we went to get lunch before picking up the cake.
Right across the street from the bakery was a Burger King, and since I thought it sounded delicious we got some food there. I would have been content going through the drive-thru but Chris brought up how going inside could kill some time. I think this might be the last time I ever listen to him.
We got inside, placed our order, and sat down in a booth. We started talking about random stuff and then our order was up. After Chris sat down we started eating, and then I saw something behind him.
A wasp.
My Mom is highly allergic to bees, wasps, and really anything that stings like that. She has to either be given a shot immediately or be taken to a hospital because it can and will kill her. I am fortunate to have never been stung, but that doesn’t mean I am not afraid of what my reaction would be like. I did crack a joke to Chris saying that a hospial is just right down the street, but it was pretty obvious that I didn’t want it to come to that.
At first I thought it was outside since sometimes it’s hard to tell on those thick windows, but as it got closer to the back of Chris’s head it was pretty obvious that it was inside.
The wasp started to fly towards us and all I kept thinking was that it could smell my fear. I am still convinced that it had it’s eyes on me, waiting to strike, and to just really fuck up my day. Chris still had a burger to finish, but since the wasp was now above us on the ceiling, we decided to pack it up and get the hell out of there.
Before leaving I let a girl behind the counter know of their little friend and she said she would tell the manager.
As we were backing out we saw the manager with a long stick poking at the ceiling and I assume he got it since we didn’t see him flailing his arms about in a panic. Oh well.
– She Who Has The Last Word
