I decided I would take the train up to the Cloisters – a museum made from an old European monastery someone a long time ago in a brash display of wealth shipped in piece by piece – and do some writing in the peaceful stone courtyards within. When I got there, though, it was closed (every Monday, in fact).
So I turned and headed back.
A normal scene. A city park. People out for strolls. A storm threatening the edges of it all with dark rain.
Then I looked closer at a bush bursting with purple flowers. All among the flowers were plump bees, gorging themselves on nectar. So into their feeding that they were oblivious to everything else.
This included the giant wasps that buzzed silent and deadly as military helicopters among the flowers, pouncing on bees and devouring them in a startling display of vicious hunger. Seriously, these things strip the bees without regard to the poor bee’s life or his solemn nine-to-five, and with no table manners at all. They spit out the legs and antenna, eat the plump middle, and finish by cutting off the head and buzzing off with the what’s left of the carcass. So uncouth.
I watched this happen three times – my interest completely peaked.
The bees were so into eating nectar that they didn’t notice the wasps. The wasps were so into eating the bees and they didn’t notice me. Suddenly I wondered what the hell was watching me because I was so into watching the bees and wasps.
I looked around and sure enough, there on a bench smoking a cigarette was an older man with hungry eyes.
Damn, I thought, I wish I wasn’t wearing my skinny jeans.
I decided to not look at him, hoping this would convey the message of noninterest. But, of course, when one decides to not look at something, it is often the thing one looks at. So. I ended up looking three or four more times in the next ten minutes – over my shoulder no less – and there he was, smiling the whole time.
Now, I don’t know what the old man was looking for, but the thing with the bees and wasps got my mind spinning.
Finally, I got so exasperated I ran away.
