Mr. Bee
On the way back from lunch yesterday, mavjop and Ben and I stopped at Starbucks. Overhead, strapped to a tree above the parking lot, was a wooden box. It looked like it could be a beehive; there were bees everywhere, but the bees seemed to be ignoring the box and swarming in and out of a hole in the tree below it. We wondered what this was all about. There was a phone number on the box, so after we'd picked up everyone's coffee we called the number to ask.
mavjop did the talking. He put the call on speaker so we could all hear. It was a bit confusing at first.
"I don't have any boxes in Redwood City", the guy on the other end of the line said. "Does it say 'Mr. Bee' on the box?" The label was stencilled on with those gappy old-fashioned letters, worn, and hard to read, but yes, it looked like it might say Mr. Bee. Much back and forth. Finally, after mavjop said "outside Starbucks", the guy figured it out. Ah, he said, this side of the road is Atherton, not Redwood City. Yes, it was one of Mr. Bee's boxes. Apparently Mr. Bee both installs and uninstalls bees. If you want to add bees, he will bring you some. If you have them and don't want them, he will take them away. In this case he was taking them away. He was very charming on the phone. "If you want to take up beekeeping as a hobby," he said, "give me a call."
A few times over the last few months I've found myself stopping by my local Long's drugstore of an evening for something small, reasonable, and specific, such as Neosporin or dental floss. Then something happens -- the melancholy music? the drone of their enormous zamboni-like vacuum cleaner? and suddenly I'm all agitated, adrift, and confused, looking at unlikely products in the ridiculous hope that buying one of them will make me feel better. Last night I stared dumbly at rows of party favors, some incomprehensible knicknacks, canned food products, and cleaning supplies. I comforted myself by getting a backup box of quart-size Ziplocs which I guess may prove useful if I can ever afford to travel again. (I started to look at prices for getting to Montreal at Christmas but, horrified by what I saw, just clicked the big X in the corner before the page could finish loading.)
For some reason the tune that's been running through my head all day is "Marching Through Georgia".
mavjop did the talking. He put the call on speaker so we could all hear. It was a bit confusing at first.
"I don't have any boxes in Redwood City", the guy on the other end of the line said. "Does it say 'Mr. Bee' on the box?" The label was stencilled on with those gappy old-fashioned letters, worn, and hard to read, but yes, it looked like it might say Mr. Bee. Much back and forth. Finally, after mavjop said "outside Starbucks", the guy figured it out. Ah, he said, this side of the road is Atherton, not Redwood City. Yes, it was one of Mr. Bee's boxes. Apparently Mr. Bee both installs and uninstalls bees. If you want to add bees, he will bring you some. If you have them and don't want them, he will take them away. In this case he was taking them away. He was very charming on the phone. "If you want to take up beekeeping as a hobby," he said, "give me a call."
A few times over the last few months I've found myself stopping by my local Long's drugstore of an evening for something small, reasonable, and specific, such as Neosporin or dental floss. Then something happens -- the melancholy music? the drone of their enormous zamboni-like vacuum cleaner? and suddenly I'm all agitated, adrift, and confused, looking at unlikely products in the ridiculous hope that buying one of them will make me feel better. Last night I stared dumbly at rows of party favors, some incomprehensible knicknacks, canned food products, and cleaning supplies. I comforted myself by getting a backup box of quart-size Ziplocs which I guess may prove useful if I can ever afford to travel again. (I started to look at prices for getting to Montreal at Christmas but, horrified by what I saw, just clicked the big X in the corner before the page could finish loading.)
For some reason the tune that's been running through my head all day is "Marching Through Georgia".