They're back.

Maybe it's the RaspbeRRy SeltZer that fizzes my brain. I don't know. Several days ago I thought I put the bearded ladies idea to rest for a while. I did come up with two very lovely pictures, didn't I? The text wasn't so bad either. Yeah, it was time to move on to other subjects, whims, and obsessions. What better way to forget the ladies con le barbe then to read some short stories. I picked up an anthology by Ryan Boudinot, which I'd bought several months ago, but hadn't had time to consider.
The third story is entitled Bee Beard. I was hoping it was about a man. But the first paragraph confirmed my fears:
Bette wore the bee beard to work on a Tuesday...At first I mistook the low buzzing for ambient noise from my computer monitor or a fluorescent light fixture...Bette wore what I had come to secretly call her Star Trek uniform, a hideous white suit jacket with too-pointy collars. From her face hung a beard of bees..."You like?" she said, standing, pivoting in a circle.
"Aren't they going to miss the hive?" I said.
"Yeah, they'll want to eat, so I brought plenty of honey," Bette said.
Now this story continues: Bette and Scott go to an up-scale restaurant, and while, eating, one of the bees from Bette's beard flies across the table, bites Scott, who goes into anaphylactic shock and has to be rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.
That prevents Scott from sleeping with Bette who's about to become his boss. The next morning his co-worker Dan arrives at work saying: "I'm a little out of it this morning. Late night, if you know what I mean," Dan says, his face dripping with bees.

Does anyone need further proof of the power of the bearded lady? With hair or bees. Oy. What a world, what a world.