In the Face of Chaos

The plagues of heaven have descended upon us. Not only is my city in flames, but I arrived home yesterday evening to find my apartment infested with bees. I’m talking hundreds of bees in both the bedrooms. I screamed, slammed the bedroom doors and called our maintenance man. Something must be done.
So I put on a pot of water to boil.

He arrived and said they’d have to smoke out the apartment. There was probably a hive in my attic and the hot day forced the bees out of my light fixtures and into our apartment. They’d probably been up there months waiting for the perfect moment for their hostile takeover of my home.

I whipped up a tasty bacon and sun dried tomato ceasar salad. The salad packs had been on sale 2 for $6 at my grocery store that day and I can never resit bacon in salad. Such decadence!

There was only so much my maintenance guy could do so he called in the official Pest control people. Ten minutes later the exterminator arrived carrying armloads of gear and a gas mask. The apartment management company called and told me to find a place to spend the night.

The water was finally boiling so I dumped in my three cheese tortellini and a sinful amount of salt.

Spike stuffed a change of clothes, toothbrush and wallet in a Hefty trash bag then got online to find a hotel. The exterminator began spreading plastic sheeting over the furniture. A peeved bee buzzed out the front door.

I peeked in the fridge for the tomato sauce. The tortellini should be done any minute now. Blazes! We were out of red sauce. I’d have to whip up a homemade cream sauce instead. I put a saucepan on the stove and began whisking the butter, milk and cheese.

“The smoke will take 5 hours to dissipate. You’ll need to wipe down all countertops and other surfaces that you eat off of afterwards. We’ll try and take out the entire hive tonight.” Spike had found a hotel across town on Expedia that fit our $100 relocation budget. My newborn surveyed the chaos with wide, dark eyes.

The tortellini was a perfect al dente and my cream sauce smelled divine. As a final garnish, I diced a juicy tomato to sprinkle over the meal. “Dinner’s ready, sweetie!” I called and set two glasses with ice on the table.

The exterminator appeared from the bedroom, wearing full gear and staring at me through the foggy glass of his gas mask. “I’m ready to spray,” came his muffled voice.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked, holding out a chilled soda.

“Ma’am, you need to leave the apartment.”

“We’ll just be a second.” I replied, motioning to my scrumptious dinner on the table.

“You really need to get your baby out of here.” Cher cried weakly from the corner.

“But I’ve made dinner, it’s all ready…”

An hour later we pulled into the parking lot of Denny’s. I’d be eating a cheeseburger that evening. Apparently cooking as a coping mechanism doesn't work against bees. Pity.

Comments

Spike said…
mmmm cheeeeeeseburgers. we won. we won bigtime. smoke was those bees last meal. suckers. that'll teach 'em. this is what they get when they mess with us.
Deena said…
I'm glad that you took a picture of that food. It looks so good. Nice of the exterminator to come so quickly...that's crazy.
Sarah said…
Alas, that's just an image I found on google images. But it looks just like what I prepared (minus the fabulous basil garnish!) My camera was way back inside the heart of the bee infestation so all I have is the fading image in my memory of a beautiful meal...
Janell said…
I'm sure the exterminator enjoyed sharing the story about the lady who willingly offered her family to thousands of rabid bees during a crazed fervor of dinner making ;)
Emma Jo said…
I was about to be super impressed that you garnish your evening meals...it sounded delicious anyway. Sorry about the bees. They suck.
Marie said…
I"m glad that the universe sees fit to empty all its wrath (and scary boob-obsessed hermits, etc) on you. I wouldn't blog about it half so wittily, and the pain would be wasted. Much sadder than wasted pasta.

I hope they'll vacuum up the bee carcases as well? Or is that your job?
Ryan said…
your basic domestic intuition astounds me! Cooking dinner with a house full of bees? I barely cook dinner with a house full of humans. I would have been like, "yeah thanks for the 100 buck relocation fee, now hows about the you feed me fee!"

bees scare me.
Sarah said…
I have this weird thing where I start cleaning, cooking or writing lists when things get chaotic. If my baby had been stung to death by bees I probably would have sat down and given myself a nice manicure. Three cheers for crazy!
Heffalump said…
I hope you at least got to put the leftovers in the fridge for later. I wish we had a Denny's nearby.
Erin said…
Oh my. Too bad you didn't live closer to Griffith Park and maybe the fire would have smoked the bees out. Hope you had a pleasant evening away from home?
Kerri said…
you are my hero, Sarah! Thankfully I married a husband who cooks because I can't even put together a decent meal on a beeless evening.
katherine said…
I was wondering how all that went so smoothly... you never once mentioned Penny! Now that would have been a story :) Glad it all went well and no one was hurt.
pflower10 said…
I have to tell you that I LOVE LOVE LOVE this post! I keep coming back to read it over and over. It makes me laugh each time I read it AND I'm getting some great ideas for dinner.

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