This next post can get me in trouble, if my grandma ever found out how to turn on her computer.
So I was Three or Four when this happened. I went to the strawberry fields with my grandma (she was the manager). Everyone was Mexican, and at the time, thats all I knew how to speak. The workers brought a ice chest full of honeycomb with a bunch of bees on it (actual honeycomb, not the cereal). I wanted a piece, so I asked the worker Javier to get me one. He tells me the bees don't sting. I go and get one and get stung twice. He started laughing at me as I cried for my grandma. My grandma got me ice, and left back to work. Well, I needed to get Javier back. That motherfucker set me up to get stung. I ran to my grandma's 67 ford mustang, put it in neutral and hopped out and watched it roll down the hill heading for a ditch. I run over to my grandma and tell her I saw Javier near her car. she sees the car in the ditch. I tell her it was Javier. Walked up to his ass, and fires him on the spot. He got teary eyed and I started laughing.
Life Lesson: Whitey always wins.