"Was you ever bit by a dead bee?" redux

Slim: You have? Why don't you bite them back?

Eddie: That's what Harry always says. But I ain't got no stinger.

Let's go back in the Way Back Machine for a moment, all the way back to the early part of 2009 (I think - I'm getting old!), to when I met Doc's family for the first time.  We journey to the Bay Area for Doc's birthday, and I would be meeting not only his family, but most of his good friends.  I was anxious as to what they would think about me, this girl who stole their oldest son away to southern California.  I was dressed in a very cute short blue plaid skirt (this is important later).

Doc and I arrived at the Hayward BART station in the evening, met by two of his long-time friends Tim and Cat. Doc and I and all of our luggage piled into the back of their car.  About 2 or 3 minutes in to the drive, the back of my upper thigh began to sting and hurt.  I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to be that whiny, high-strung girlfriend.  It hurt more and more over the course of the short ride to his parents house.  By the time we stopped I was in such pain that I had to run into the house, bypassing greetings and pleasantries, and go straight to the bathroom to see what was going on.  Much to my chagrin, I was too short to see my legs in the bathroom mirror.  Embarrassed, I had to leave the bathroom, and ask Doc to follow me and inspect the area.  His mother was going to think I was crazy.

Come to find out, I had sat on a dead bee in the back of the car, and I somehow managed to get stung.  By a dead bee.

Fast forward to St. Louis, MO, 18 march 2012.  When we arrived, we were able to stop in on Doc's Great Uncle James.  James runs a NC-style bbq joint in the city.

 We had a lovely dinner, drank beer, and discussed business.  James is a wonderful man.  He kept trying to convince us to stay, and I intending on taking him up on that offer when we go back through.  We did avail ourselves of his shower, however.  In the guest bathroom, getting ready to shower, I stepped on something hard.  I pick my foot up, and what do I see?  A dead bee.  Sigh.