Reverse beer goggles

My deck was rotting to the point where it wasn't a question of if, but when, someone was going to fall through it, so I called Fix-It Dude. Just as he was tearing it apart, he ran into a snag: a massive bee infestation underneath my house. Not wasps. Bees. Hundreds and hundreds of bees. It was kind of surreal. We don't have many bees around here. Now I know why - they're all at Casa Savia!

It was with great sadness that I resisted naming the bees and instead called an exterminator. The nest was somewhere deep beneath my home and there was no way to get at it to save my sweet honey buns. That, and Fix-It Dude refused to work on the deck until they were gone. Wuss.

The bee killer came within an hour, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was way cute. Nice smile, very friendly, he asked me about myself while he sprayed toxic powder on my dying winged pets, and talked about how he was going for birthday drinks with his much quieter bee-killing sidekick.

When he gave me the bill, he wrote his name and phone number on it, "in case something comes up with the bees before Friday" (when he would be back to make sure they were all dead.) It was Wednesday. What could come up with the bees in less than two days? I considered texting him the following: "So, did you give me your number for bee-related reasons or to go for drinks?" And then I thought, "What if he's a player and picks up women as he's exterminating critters all the time?"

Of course, I had to turn to my Facebook friends to see what to do. They were, as always, helpful:

• Life is too short not to give him a call. If you get "Stung" chalk it up as experience....go for it....
• I keep picturing Do-Bee from Romper Room.
• CALL HIM!!!! Even if he turns out to be a player who is great in bed, HE'S GREAT IN BED...LMAO

We decided that I should wait until he came back to make sure there was chemistry between us (aside from the toxic insecticide) and if so, I could ask him out in person.

On Friday afternoon, he knocked at my door. I was excited to open it, until I saw him. It was the same guy, but he looked completely different. Instead of the baby face with the adorable smile, he looked...dweeby?

What the hell happened?

One word: sunglasses.

The first time he came, he was wearing them and looking sweet like the honey underneath my house. When he showed up on my door the second time, he had taken them off. When he did, his entire face changed. Turns out he wasn't so cute after all. (I should also mention that he had been wearing the sunglasses on top of regular glasses.)

And, to add insult to injury, he was just a friendly exterminator who was not hitting on me either time. I just misread the signals. On Friday, he came, killed the bees some more (including some zombie bees), and then went on his way.

Clearly, both my cute-dar and flirt-dar are both extremely rusty due to lack of use. This is what happens when you get so wrapped up in work and school that you forget to date.

Still, I would like to know what brand of sunglasses those are, so I can sue the company for false advertising...or buy a pair for myself that I will never, ever take off. They're like beer goggles, but for everyone not wearing them. If I patent them, I will be rich, I tells ya!

I'm taking orders now, in case you're interested.