Burts Bees lip balm is no joke.

After my usual morning makeup routine, I opted for the honey-scented/flavored Burt's Bees lip balm instead of whatever it is I normally use.

There's no reason why I chose honey over mint. Except maybe to attract bees. Because that's what the freaking lip balm did.

Not fifteen minutes later, I was pumping gas into my car when I noticed a bee buzzing around. Usually, I don't bug out when there's a flying insect because my Daddy Lou always told me that bees won't bother you if you don't bother them.

This bee, however, was different. This bee kept coming right at me.

As I slowly backed away, the bee circled and came closer, then further, then closer, then further. By this time, others at the gas station had noticed my strange behavior, but I'm confident they couldn't see the bee.

I must've looked like I was about to have a seizure.

I backed away from the pump and the bee. It seemed to work. The bee took off and was out of site.

Then, it swooped in from behind me, darting between my calves and bumping one as it circled me again.

I didn't swat at it, but I might have jumped and spun in a circle. And I might have said, "Fuck." I always say, "Fuck."

A this point, it was obvious people were watching me now. What wasn't obvious was why I was stiff-armed, moving in a serpentine pattern, and spewing four-letter words.

That's when the bee decided to go for my face. He got so close, my eyes crossed.

It hit me then ... an idea, not the bee. That bee can smell my lip balm.

I quickly tucked my lips in and covered my mouth with my hand. After four seconds, the bee flew away. (After about thirty seconds, my face started sweating it's over 105 degrees here today.)

My crazy idea had worked. Sure, I looked nuts covering my face while pumping gas. But at least I wasn't dancing around screeching, as I was two minutes prior.