The Near Death Experience of Bee Boy

Here's a story about a jerk named "Bee Boy" and his rise to idiocy. Bee Boy was born in a small town where he was idolized for his cuteness. His mother doted on him, and his manly man father was always "working late" at the office. He learned quickly that he could manipulate his mother easily, as she was starved for attention and hated to upset Bee Boy. Bee Boy tried his tricks on everyone around him, and to his surprise, he found that he could use the trusting fools of his tiny town to his advantage. He preyed on the insecurities of others and offered them power and protection at his side. No one wanted to be stung by Bee Boy so they sought to impress him by helping him find yet more power. He was class president, prom king, football star, and he was absolutely cruel. Inside, Bee Boy had emotionally ostracized himself from the collective consciousness, believing that he was smarter, stronger, more clever and just better than everyone else in every way. This was confirmed by the people around him whom he so easily was able to control. The more they did as he said, the more god like and alone he felt. He had never known the openness and truth of love, only the condescending grandeur of all his deceit. He grew up this way and realized the very best job for a person such as himself. A life insurance sales agent! He sold more policies than anyone before and collected many trophies, and most importantly, millions of dollars in commission. Money gave him even MORE power! He didn't even need to be clever and cunning anymore, and soon grew bored of selling and at 30, decided to retire. He bought a fancy house in the snootiest neighborhood of only very fancy and all new houses. He collected the instruments of famous people and wondered what his next step in creating an Empire would be.. He realized he would need a female to bare him offspring and so he created a Tinder profile which stated he was a retired 30 year old millionaire in his own mansion, looking for someone special. And this, regrettably, is how I met Bee Boy. I immediately suspected this wad a liars profile and did not believe he was a retired 30 year old millionaire who plays golf all day and lived only 5 minutes from my house. I was curious to see who he really was, and we talked a bit through messaging. He seemed charming and played along with my poem responses. It was a time in my life when I really enjoyed rhyming and typing all my responses in riddles and rhymes. This intrigued Bee Boy who very much liked clever and unusual people, as they were just a fun challenge to bend to his impenetrable will. We decided to meet at his place, 8pm and we would have a drink while I viewed his many treasures, and then get dinner. I imagine that when he saw my Tinder profile, which showed me in all my luxurious gowns I've created in Palm Springs, Hollywood, Vegas, he dreamed up that I was a very successful, as in wealthy, fashion designer. So when I pulled up to his dramatically lit driveway, which showcased his fancy sport car, in my old tin Toyota Echo with no power anything, he was bewildered. Ther first thing he said as I got out was, "I didn't think it was you pulling up, I wouldn't have expected you to drive.. this.." I loved my little stick shift car! It got nearly 40 mpg, jumped rivers, required zero maintenance (I thought), and it had real fabric seats that never stuck to my thighs and threatened to rip the skin off like my nemesis "leather" seats. My little Echo was so basic, I had to roll up my windows before I got out. This was the icing on the hilarity cake for Bee Boy. "Wow... nice ride.." he laughed. Then turned to walk in to his house, expecting me to follow without invite. I could tell already he was trying to establish hierarchy. I have never accepted a "greater power" than myself in my life, and in this way, we had some 'fun' testing each other. He had totally gross sticky leather couches. I informed him I actually can't sit on "that", it's too uncomfortable. This was surprising for Bee Boy who spent at least 25k on this custom fully leather U shaped couch that lined the whole perimeter of his TV room. Most people recognized his fancy leather couch as a sign of wealth and therefore power. I saw it for what I knew it to be, cold to the touch, then it graphs into your thigh skin, and dare you move, it will keep the first layer of skin to meld with its cow skin, as it cries on grotesque victory with its crunchy squeaking.. "Do you have a blanket I could cover it with so I can sit?" Bee Boy didn't usually handle requests. "Yeah.. I guess go check the linen closet in the hall, down that way". He's already becoming one with his leather so he doesn't get up. I find a blanket, lay it out and sit on it, as I position myself, the leather couch croaks and groans for my thigh meat, ever too close.. He's on a soliloquy about his life and how he got so rich, and how he was a groupie for some suicide band leader and he bought all his old instruments and masks with his fortune, and how great he is at guitar, and ladeedahdee and as I went to auto mode; big interested eyes, an occasional nod or turn of the head, saw wow every couple minutes, I was actually realizing that I left a silk chiffon and ostrich feather robe i had just about finished for a custom couture client out on my floor of my room because I'd been adhering lace appliques and Swarovski crystals to it, and then it was time for the date, and I forgot my new baby Kitten Mae West was locked in there with it and I had left her litter box on my porch (which just happened to be swarmed with bees, later making me look suspicious, but TOTAL COINCIDENCE DANGIT), and I envisioned her having diarrhea on the stage plumage which likely smelled weird to a little angel baby kitten who has no where to potty and has not been having an easy time digesting lately. "Oh no.." I whisper out loud as I watch my kitten get sick on the $1200 robe which was due to ship tomorrow. "Oh no what?" He catches it immediately. But I never miss a beat when I'm on the spot to cover up, "Sorry, my tummy just gurgled, and sometimes it feels like I'm going to throw up when I'm this hungry. But please, continue, it can wait". He does in fact continue, completely ignoring my false sickness. Then he shows me his trophy room. I surprise him by saying, "A few years ago I was also a life insurance agent. I was voted best phone voice (because I have a calm, sexy, nurturing phone voice that convinced everyone in the phone book that they should have me over to talk.. life insurance policies.. mmm... Of course the reality was that I was the best at getting appointments and could book them all day with potential customers, but I couldn't lie and tell them that they should spend their social security checks on a policy that will make their no where to be seen offspring wealthy. Instead, I made friends with many old people and told them they would be better off going on vacation and they should spend the money they've worked so hard to earn. Don't spoil the joy of the journey of financial independence for your children! It builds strength and character and whatever! Go out to dinner! Take a cruise! Be wild! I was so enthusiastic then about trading stupid money for the invaluable memories of the wild opportunities it can afford you! In this way I was the world's worst life insurance agent. However, the pervy boss who once sent me home when i tried dressing "conservatively" to go put on something sexier, loved me. I was really good at imitating his sales pitch he has us memorize, I was cute to watch, and fun to have in the office. He once called out a guy working with me for staring at my "milk jugs" and he giggled on chocking out something about me being the office milk maid. When I told him I couldn't keep ther job because I wasn't making sales (I honestly drove to the beach a lot instead of going to my sales calls), he wrote me a personal check for $1,000 to persuade me to stay. I cashed that check, went to my favorite vintage shop and bought a sheer white dress with embroidered flowers, which I wore over a black lace pushup corset I had ehm.. taken from Macys when i was younger, fishnet thigh highs and a black and crystal garter belt, all I'd which was delightfully visible beneath the sheer dress. I strutted into the office, many hours late, and he informed me i would have to sing a song to the office, as was the punishment for late arrivals. I smiled and said, "Sorry, I'm late for fun, I quit, bye!" He followed me to my desk where I was bending overt dramatically collecting my things, I knew what I meant to this office. I gifted most of my things to a cute boy that worked with me, and I winked at the boss as I trotted off! So back to Bee Boy, after he shows me his many rooms of this and that, his views, his garage, he says, "I'm getting kind of hungry, you ready to eat?" I already said I was! "Sure, should we take your car, or mine?" I had only once dated a guy with a car since getting divorced, so I was used to being the driver. He just laughed and walked to his car. He played a little game with locking and unlocking the door as I tried to open it, ha.. ha. Then when im finally in, he literally and truthfully says, "You cool with the BK?". I'm clearly confused, I don't know what "The BK" is.. He laughs again, "The BK Lounge?" I just say, "sure, sounds nice" because I've never heard of it, he smiles. He flies down the hill trying to scare me by pushing the car until the governor chip kills the gas when he hit 115 going down a hill to the BK Lounge. He keeps checking to see my face, but I'm smiling too, because I also drive very very fast. My ex husband and his Nascar dad taught me to drive when I started living with then at 16. I street raced in that little Echo he scoffed at because even though the motor was small, the tin car with no extras was dangerously lightweight, and being a sick shift, I could pull just about any car until we hit 50. He drives us to a part of town I never go, where it's hard to imagine a lounge.. He pulls into the Burger King drive through. He's grinning. "BK is Burger King, huh" I tilt my head and squint my eyes a little. "I can't eat here". I have been off slop food for years, and the last time I tried to eat something from a fast "food" restaurant, the pretend ingredients were absolutely indigestible and I got very sick. Never again. He clearly ate here at the BK Lounge often, probably how he saved all his money to retire. His chemical makeup had adapted to this kind of gloopity glop and he ordered everything and then zipped us home. He set out his BK treasure on a table, and I had a shot of whiskey. Maybe two maybe three maybe more. Hard to say. But what I do remember is that he dipped every single thing into his vanilla shake before putting it in his mouth. I stuck with whiskey. He didn't offer to get me anything edible, as he couldn't risk his power dynamic. Im pretty sure I went home after that, feeling slightly off put and slightly amused by him. My driving home thought was, "I would totally marry him, get the best ever life insurance policy and slowly poison him, maybe attack his heart health, he can't have long eating like that anyways..". I came gone to a shit stink room with Kitten diarrhea all over the client's robe..  I filled ther bathtub and hand washed it, annoyed that my premonition was correct. Bee Boy texted me the next day and said I should put on my swimsuit and come over for a starlit bubble bath and that he would turn on the jets and we could fill the whole bathroom with bubbles! NOW THIS HAD MY ATTENTION! Yes! I was there! I arrived and knocked at his door, finding it was left slightly ajar and glided open at my touch. Come on up! He yelled from above. I wondered if he was manic, his voice was different, so excited! He seemed fun all of the sudden! Now I realize her was probably on Coke, which I never did or recognized that other people were almost always on drugs around me! It created some weird situations! All I had was weed brownies. My best friend and I had inherited some other worldly chronic hash butter which we used to make about 10lbs of weed brownies. We found out the hard way, that a single crumb the size of a pearl would get you hallucinogenicly stoned for a whole day. This magical weed brownie also gave us the power to see directly through Bullshit. I had a crumb just like 10 minutes earlier when I was leaving so that I could test this man and see what was really going on inside him. I walk up the stairs to the giant bathroom that was the size of the whole house im living in right now. The room is lit by many candles, and he is lounging in a tub piled high with bubbles. Im wearing my sexy Unicorn Onesie over my leopard print bikini. He didn't even look my way, he is just learning over the edge of the tub, looking out the windows at the stars above, but in reality its very foggy outside and he is just pretending. I zip off my unicorn suit and step in to the tub with him. The weed hits me and as he turns his face to me, suddenly he is seriously a lion, with a big mane and paws and everything. And im a Zebra. But I refuse to panic. I try to be a mountain lion, but I end up a tiger, which is fine. A tiger will definitely defeat a lion. I don't remember a lot but he starts asking about my childhood and why i turned out to be so unique. He is complimenting and flattering me in a careful way that I recognize as him reading a script he had prepared to lead me into a certain way of thinking. It freaks me out and I'm feeling like he might be a psychotic murderer who has lead me here to torture, rape and kill me. No! It's just the weed over exaggerating the predatory vibe of his Lion self. I tell myself so over and over, but I can't stop thinking something is wrong. We tell stories in the bath tub, and after a while he starts to soften up and tell me a little about himself. I recognize how lonely he is, and secretly, he has no direction now. I start to feel badly for him, like I should somehow foster love into his lion heart, and then.. I think it's a trick! And then I think, no im just high and paranoid, he is just a bored, lonely man who can't connect with anyone beyond domination. We eventually get out and I think at some point we got naked.. I don't know how. But he wants to show me how he lifts weights and im like, "yeah I can do that, I have a super strong back." And he immediately tested my false claim. I can't lift 150 over my chest. Then he wants me to feel hotte soft and comfy his bed is. He walks to his bed and lies on it leisurely like a big lazy lion. I gallop like a Zebra top speed towards the bed and he whips his head around and then I leap into the air and fly at him like a tiger!!!! "FUCK!" he yells! And I growl at him and we wrestle about like big cats laughing and that was all actually pretty fun. But then he says this thing when I'm saying something about magic being undefined science and that time will tell us what we can't know now. And he says, "This is the most important time in existence, and he thinks the world will end in our lifetime because he was born to this time line, and he knows for sure that he is the greatest man to ever live, so the world is at its furthest stage of possible advancement and understanding now." I remember him telling me he was also going to vote for Trump in the upcoming election and that if I wad smart I would do the same and convince everyone I know to do the same. At that time, Trump was still just a funny cartoon man from the fictitious world of reality TV, I laughed whenever someone thought he would actually get elected. And immediately after that he started kissing me and I think we just had oral sex.. which I totally regret now because he didn't deserve it. For some reason his attempts at persuading me to do or think this, really amused me, and I liked arguing back and how whenever he was losing he would retreat to kissing me and being kind of rough and tumbly. So i went over there like every night for a month and he always woke at at 5am to go play golf and wouldn't let me stay. Since his house was on ther easy to mine, I often left him treats and cards in his mailbox. Which I thought was very sweet of me. There last time I was there I left my favorite hat, and as I was lying in bed, he was calling from the kitchen, "time to get up! Up up up!" And I asked half asleep, "what time is it?" And be replied "sarcastically" but actually seriously "Time for you to get the fuck out!". I realized right then that he didn't like me at all beyond his curiosity of why I was so weird for a girl, and that it seemed like I was listening to his stories. I left that morning without a word and the next day he left for a "business trip" in Florida which he told me through text. "But, I thought you're retired.." I replied. He said he was just going to collect some reward check and he would be back in a few days. I knew now that he was a fuck fave liar who probably had several girlfriends and was going on vacation with one of his more favorable victims. A few days later, while I was brushing my horses, he called me. I ignored it, the break made me realize he was gross and dumb and thus was going nowhere. He called again immediately. I answered, annoyed. "Yes?" I answered. "Be expecting a call from the police detective, I know it was you." I couldn't help myself, this was ther highlight to an otherwise blasé day! "Me??? What in the world have I done now?" I sounded like a villain purposely feigning ignorance. "You dumb fucking bitch! You tried to kill me! You're about to be arrested! Rot in hell you evil sick cunt!" And he hung up. I most definitely did not try to kill him, and was completely bewildered. He sounded serious. I wondered if this was how a coward ends a relationship, with crazy person drama. Sure enough, one minute later the Sherrif calls me and questions where I was on a certain night. I wad genuinely confused and explained that I had been dating this guy for like a month, and he went in a business trip and the first thing i hear back from him is that i tried to kill him and i literally have no clue what's going on. The police explains that "somebody" that knew he was deathly allergic to bees left a bee box on his front door, and when he got home in the dark, he accidentally kicked it and was nearly killed by bees. This haneous act is being considered an attempt at murder, and he's certain that it's me. I say I didn't even know he was allergic to bees! I don't even know anyone with bee boxes! And ther police man recites my very funny story about how i accidentally made my porch a giant bee box. It goes like this.. One fine day, I set up my canvas on my easel which was on my private balcony porch off my second story room. I was wearing nothing but a towel a la "the notebook", and as I sat down, I was stung on the shoulder by a bee! Fucker! It hurt tremendously and I decided that I would completely incase my balcony with fine net bridal veil tulle which I had so much of. I got a staple gun and spent an entire day completely and perfectly enclosing the balcony, even the floor boards! When I was done, I sat back down to paint and opened the easel drawer and reached for my brushes only to be stung again and AGAIN! AND AGAIN! and I flung the drawer out and it was a wasp nest!!! And now there were like 100 wasps enclosed in the balcony with me!!! I ran back inside and called my parents. Im sad to say my dad came over and sprayed them to death, which is something I felt bad about, but also they would have starved to death encased in my balcony anyways.. ehh.. well anyhow, I laugh at my story because it was SO FUNNY at the time! But ther police said this made me look very suspect. Well it for sure wasn't me, so cross me off your list. He said that's not joke it's going to work, and he would be calling me in soon. I never spoke top the police again because I'm a very busy girl with better things to do than entertain the bogus idea that I tried to kill Bee Boy. I totally didn't do it. It wasn't me! The end.