The buzzle

The thing about having a single female friend is that I am sometimes called to assist in situations that a married woman would defer to her husband. Sometimes I just insist on helping when my friend Kelly really wants my husband's advice because I feel we shouldn't have to rely on men to solve our problems. Of course, Tom is the first person I call in any situation that I don't feel equipped to handle, but I feel that with Kelly and her situations it is like a trial run for me.

The other night Kelly was once again talking about the maintenance that is iffy at her apartment complex. She had a garbage disposal that hadn't worked properly and that had been looked at several times by maintenance, but really hadn't been fixed to her satisfaction. She had finally laid down the law to management and when she came home one day after work not only had her garbage disposal been fixed, but the sink had been cleansed and was now sparkling. Upon further inspection she discovered also that her toilet seat which had been loose of late had been tighten. She had not mentioned this to management and so she had come to the conclusion that the maintenance man had been pooping in her toilet.

Kelly: "How else would he have known my toilet seat was loose? He had to have been pooping in my toilet and that makes me uneasy. Why would he poop in my toilet? Could he not control it? Was it diarrhea? The whole thing grosses me out."
Me: "I think you are jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he had to go under your bathroom sink. The two sinks do but up against one another through the wall and maybe, for some reason or another, he had to look under that sink to fix the disposal. He was down on his knees looking under the bathroom sink and when he went to get up he reached out to steady himself using the toilet seat and discovered that it was loose."
Kelly: "No. He pooped in my toilet."

We went round and round on this and then she piped up that if he really wanted to help her out he should have killed the wasps nest that she has complained about for months. Upon further questioning, I learned that she has a wasp nest outside her back door in between the screen and the glass patio door. She had reported this to management several times and each time she was told the bug man couldn't find it.

Kelly: "I mean, really? How hard is it to find? I've told them exactly where it is. They aren't even trying."
Me: "Well, really, Kelly, just kill the damn thing yourself. Buy some spray and kill them. And you do know that you do that at night, by the way. Don't try to kill them before dusk."
Kelly: "Why is that?"
Me: "Because they leave the nest at night."
Kelly: "Where do they go? Where exactly do all the wasps go at dusk? To a huge social gathering to discuss the events of their day?"
Me: "I don't know. I just know that my dad always told me to kill wasps at dusk or evening and that is when he killed them. And that is when I make Tom kill them. At night. Because they are gone."

And around and around we went again until I turned to the Internet. I found a site that gave helpful information. I read this aloud to Kelly and discussed how we would tackle the situation.

1. Find the Nest - Me: "You have already done this so we can already mark off one of the tasks."
2. Choose the Right Time of Day - Me: "Ah ha! It says here that night is the best time because the wasps are sluggish and sleepy in the evening. That is why you attack them at night. I was wrong on the leaving the nest thing, but I was right that night is the time to strike."
3. Wear Protective Clothing - Kelly: "And your going to wear your car repairing black shirt, right?"  Me:  "Well, it says here to dress in multiple layers so the wasp stingers don't penetrate our skin. We have to seal off the cuffs of our pants with rubber bands. I just bought a whole box of those. And we should wear gloves and put rubber bands around the cuffs of our shirts. This way the wasps don't fly up our clothes. Oh, and we need eye protection."

Kelly: "Yeah. This isn't going to happen. I'm not killing even one or two wasps. If you want to do that, have at it. I just don't plan on going outside my door ever again."
Me: "Well, that's just plain silly. Maybe you should just locate the maintenance man and ask him to help. He seems to be a handy fellow repairing things even when you don't report them."
Kelly: "Yes. Maybe he can poop on them."

I gave up. For now. I'm still thinking....