This story is completely true. I can only hope to avoid a repeat.
Last summer, I was working patrol on graveyard shift. There I was, minding my own business, as usual. Around just after dawn, I decided to get out and get some fresh air. I started rooting through some bushes in an area where stolen goods are often stashed. After a few minutes, I didn't find anything and grew bored, which doesn't take long for me. I got back in my vehicle to return to my office, since it was almost shift change.
A few yards into my drive, I begin to feel something crawling up my left leg. I want to point out to everyone that yes, I was indeed wearing pants, or I would have noticed something wrong, earlier. Almost immediately, I felt something bite me on the thigh, just above the knee. Since I am deathly afraid of spiders and imagined that's what the culprit was, I opened the door and rolled out, almost in one single motion.
As I get to my feet, swatting the living snot out of my leg, I notice my vehicle is still moving forward. It was still in gear. I momentarily forget my pain, chase down my vehicle and bring it to a stop (remembering to put it in park, this time). I need to point out that I was doing all of this while holding the area where I had been bitten, to keep my assailtant from further assaulting me, should he still be alive. This caused my gait to be somewhat lopsided and awkward. I probably looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame, out for his morning jog.
After a couple minutes, I determined it was safe to let go. I breathed a sigh of relief, since I felt no further movement on my leg. I then drove back the office.
On arriving at said office, one of the dayshift officers was waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. I told her what happened and we had a good laugh. As we conversed, I would occasionally feel something crawling on my leg, again. I wrote this off as just post-incident jitters, but would give my leg a good swat just to be safe. The other officer was not phased by my actions, since I do tend to act neurotic on occasion.
Suddenly, I felt myself getting bitten repeatedly, this time a few inches above the initial site. It was at this point I panicked, thinking that whatever was biting me was going to crawl up and bite me in a very sensitive area. I grabbed onto the area of the last set of bites and repeated my hunchback lope to the office door. I fished my key off my belt, let myself in and did the 10 yard dash to the restroom.
Once getting into the bathroom and shutting the door, I faced a dilemma. How to remove my belt keepers, release the buckle and allow my utility belt to fall to the ground without anything "going off", and still hang onto whatever it was I had up my pants.
This is a good point to bring up the fact that my relief officer was still standing outside by the vehicles, wondering what the hell I was doing. She was absolutely worthless in a crisis. She is also now off my Christmas list.
Anyway, I managed to drop the belt without too much damage and disrobe. I found three yellowjackets in my pants (a mere few inches from the crotch area, I might add) and another in my left boot. I then used deadly force to prevent myself from further injury from the savage little beasts.
Upon examining the damage, I found that I had four yellowjacket bites on my thigh and one on my knee. Imagine my chagrin when I was ordered by my supervisor to fill out an on-the-job injury form, just in case. It was then I was dubbed, "Dances with Bees".
Last summer, I was working patrol on graveyard shift. There I was, minding my own business, as usual. Around just after dawn, I decided to get out and get some fresh air. I started rooting through some bushes in an area where stolen goods are often stashed. After a few minutes, I didn't find anything and grew bored, which doesn't take long for me. I got back in my vehicle to return to my office, since it was almost shift change.
A few yards into my drive, I begin to feel something crawling up my left leg. I want to point out to everyone that yes, I was indeed wearing pants, or I would have noticed something wrong, earlier. Almost immediately, I felt something bite me on the thigh, just above the knee. Since I am deathly afraid of spiders and imagined that's what the culprit was, I opened the door and rolled out, almost in one single motion.
As I get to my feet, swatting the living snot out of my leg, I notice my vehicle is still moving forward. It was still in gear. I momentarily forget my pain, chase down my vehicle and bring it to a stop (remembering to put it in park, this time). I need to point out that I was doing all of this while holding the area where I had been bitten, to keep my assailtant from further assaulting me, should he still be alive. This caused my gait to be somewhat lopsided and awkward. I probably looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame, out for his morning jog.
After a couple minutes, I determined it was safe to let go. I breathed a sigh of relief, since I felt no further movement on my leg. I then drove back the office.
On arriving at said office, one of the dayshift officers was waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. I told her what happened and we had a good laugh. As we conversed, I would occasionally feel something crawling on my leg, again. I wrote this off as just post-incident jitters, but would give my leg a good swat just to be safe. The other officer was not phased by my actions, since I do tend to act neurotic on occasion.
Suddenly, I felt myself getting bitten repeatedly, this time a few inches above the initial site. It was at this point I panicked, thinking that whatever was biting me was going to crawl up and bite me in a very sensitive area. I grabbed onto the area of the last set of bites and repeated my hunchback lope to the office door. I fished my key off my belt, let myself in and did the 10 yard dash to the restroom.
Once getting into the bathroom and shutting the door, I faced a dilemma. How to remove my belt keepers, release the buckle and allow my utility belt to fall to the ground without anything "going off", and still hang onto whatever it was I had up my pants.
This is a good point to bring up the fact that my relief officer was still standing outside by the vehicles, wondering what the hell I was doing. She was absolutely worthless in a crisis. She is also now off my Christmas list.
Anyway, I managed to drop the belt without too much damage and disrobe. I found three yellowjackets in my pants (a mere few inches from the crotch area, I might add) and another in my left boot. I then used deadly force to prevent myself from further injury from the savage little beasts.
Upon examining the damage, I found that I had four yellowjacket bites on my thigh and one on my knee. Imagine my chagrin when I was ordered by my supervisor to fill out an on-the-job injury form, just in case. It was then I was dubbed, "Dances with Bees".
