Wednesday night, while making dinner, I noticed there was a bee in our kitchen. No big deal, I opened the kitchen window and let out the bee.
Fast forward to Thursday evening, when we come home from work. There were - and I want you to know when I throw out this number that I am not embellishing in any way - THIRTY BEES IN OUR KITCHEN. Additionally, there were three bees in our living room and four in our bedroom. It was like something out of a creepy movie. Like Candyman.
Some investigation revealed that there was a hole in the brick of our apartment building. This hole is pretty much right on level with the cabinet directly under our kitchen sink, which is where BEES OH EM GEE SO MANY BEES were entering our house. Also, some were getting in the windows.* PLUS apparently this many bees hanging out means they have built a giant nest. Within the walls of our apartment building.
Pest control was called out onto the scene today and annihilated several hundred bees (a hefty percentage of which have turned up on our windowsills, windows, and floor directly beneath windows…yikes). Then it was discovered that apparently these are not just any bees. These are special endangered honey bees. So you can’t exterminate them. You have to have a beekeeper remove them.
Not surprisingly, the beekeeper(s) can’t be contacted until Monday.
Our apartment management has been…less than awesome about all of this. For instance, take that I am typing this blog from my apartment, aka the Beehive, and not from a hotel room. The only consolation offered? “It’s nature.” Oh, right, thanks. That of course excuses you from any responsibility for the over 200 bees in my apartment in the past 2 days. You’re only the LANDLORDS. GAH.
*Cameron would like me to note that he singlehandedly and rather heroically dispensed of the original 30+ bees armed only with a squirt bottle filled with water and dish soap.