meat tenderizer
a bee stung me! in sharples, our dining hall, which looks like a ski lodge, is never called a cafeteria, and isn’t usually a WWI battlefield where killer bees lurk in trenches waiting to jump out and attack.
a bee! stung me! i thought that only happened to whiny children, or people misguided enough to wear yellow. and honestly, it hurts. now i understand why people are afraid of those damned creatures. the one that got me didn’t fall down and die, like they’re supposed to; he merely continued on his merry masochistic way.
my hand swelled up and a nurse sprinkled meat tenderizer on like it was fairy dust, then sealed the deal by handing me a medicine bottle in a plastic baggie. that’s ice, she said helpfully. just hold it with your hand.
i walked out of the medical building and back to my room, tenderized and clutching ice in the form of a bottle of pills, and i heard a girl behind me giggle to a boy, “what, did she get stung by a bee or something?”
also, i got my fortune told in philly yesterday, but more about that later.