Go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!

Last weekend I took a ride with S&P to Pep Boys. He needed something or other for his bike. I parted ways with him immediately to peruse all things Hello Kitty: key chains, floor mats, steering wheel covers, Hello Kitty-shaped strawberry scented air fresheners, etc. My search was exhausted in roughly five minutes and I soon became bored. I went outside and sat on the curb by the bike. Soon thereafter he came out saying the part was not in stock. As I stood up from the curb, I felt a tiny little something crawling just below the waistline of my jeans. I looked back to the curb and saw a trail of red ants. I started smacking my butt, hips, and thighs to try to kill any unwanted invaders.

S&P told me I should take off my pants...

It wasn't being in a parking lot in broad daylight that was my main concern with doing that. It was more the thought of peeling off my skinny jeans, after taking off my knee high boots, coupled with feeling quite moist, as it was a very warm day. There was just no way undressing in that moment was going to be graceful.

"I think I got them all," I told him, as we sat idling at a light. And then one squirmed into the depths of my crack. I bounced vigorously on the bike trying to squish it. Soon, we were at his friend’s home. I felt like everything was under control. I began to think maybe I had tricked myself, like when you scratch your head when you hear of a friend’s child coming down with lice. Just then I felt something move.

I grabbed my crotch and yelled, "oh God they are moving around again! Can I please use your bathroom?" As I ran down the hall, I realized these people surely think I have crabs.

I dropped my pants and saw a handful of very angry red welts. Sure enough, the next day I woke up to the typical puss-filled bite marks I'm accustomed to getting on my feet. The bite about a pencil eraser distance from my butt hole was the worst to deal with. I never realized the friction that takes place daily as you walk, but I was surely aware of it last week. Those bitches covered some serious ground. One got me on the back of my mid-thigh, while another got me right where your vajay and leg meet. Finding subtle ways to rub myself to relieve the itch over the next few days was humiliating, to say the least.