When the weather is nice, I leave the heat/ air off and the door open at work. I’ve asked for a screendoor, but I think the landlord thinks I’m joking.
I’m not.
He ought to know better, because he’s come by plenty of times when I’m enjoying the lovely day the best way I can.

Anyway, earlier today I had a honeybee visit. I’m not scared of bees, I like them a lot, and I gently persuaded her to go back out the same way she came in.

At 3:25, either she or a fellow worker returned. I tried the coaxing method as she buzzed my fake flowers on the conference table. I closed the doors off the lobby, thereby limiting her choices. She deigned to check out my plastic magnolia stems on my desk. I waited her out as she explored my colorfully decorated corkboard, my chair, then the windows behind my desk, and over to the malicious copy machine. I patiently tried to waft air in the general direction of the door. I got behind her in an attempt to shoo her. It worked about as well as herding cats. She wasn’t having it, instead choosing to investigate the windows at the side of my desk. Then double back to the others. Oh no. This wasn’t conducive to escape. So I decided to open a window and then the screen, therefore allowing her to buzz safely back into the land o’ plenty. The window opened easily enough, but I couldn’t figure out how to raise the screen. There were no fingerholds. Meanwhile, she’s becoming more frantic with this new taste of screened freedom. As am I, because we have now been joined by a stripey wasper. I fold the glass part out so she’d have more room. For a flying start?? I don’t know, but I couldn’t get the screen to budge. I walk outside, thinking perhaps they were installed backwards. Nope, nothing there. I come back in and decide they’re the type that pops out. Nope, there was to be naught a pop. I see the problem- the screens have been screwed ito the frame for some reason. If if I did want to jump through it, it wouldn’t do any damage, as these windows are only about a foot off the ground, so I’m not sure what kind of safety precaution that is, although one can certainly commiserate with that level of despair after about five hours in a drab federal government office. Anyway, I managed to create about a one inch space between the base of the window and the bottom of the screen for her to crawl through. I retrieve my stainless letter opener from my desk to gain more leverage. I try to gently cajole her to use the cleared slot. She is totally uninterested and I am becoming more vested in the wasper’s whereabouts. I try holding the screen up and out with my finger and using the letter opener to nudge her to the opening. She’s getting agitated and I think a little scared.

I sigh. There’s only one thing left to do. I take off my sweatshirt (relax, I have on an undershirt) and capture her. I step quickly outside and release her.
Whew.
I come back to close the window and see the wasp. Well, I can’t leave him here to die after so graciously saving her. So I gently snatch him up as well and hurriedly carry him to the great outdoors.

Let it be known I am an equal opportunity pollinator saver.

And that’s how I spent thirty minutes of my life on this beautiful spring afternoon, pleading with a honeybee to vacate the premises and instead having to forcibly evacuate her and a sworn enemy under duress.

Good deeds done, I’m headed home.