I can still see the lingering spots left by the huge welts I got from the bites. The bites were not completely uniform but it looked as though something with two mismatched fangs chomped into my upper thigh, about 6 inches from my hip. That or whatever bit me decided the first bite was so good it went in for round two.
Now I don't know about you but shit crawling around, biting you in the night annoys and creeps me the fuck out. I always wonder what it was that bit me and how the whole thing happened. It never fails in the Summer months that a few mosquitos find their way into the apartment, inevitably make it upstairs, and proceed to annoy me all night with little buzzing flybys. It's just insult to injury because they know as soon as you go to sleep you're going to toss the sheets off you, which you've been using as some magically impenetrable fortress. And you know they're going to come and chew on your ass as soon as you let your guard down, unaware and drooling on yourself.
As My Special Man Friend ("MSMF") and I lay in bed the next morning, I felt that familiar twingy itch. A bite itch. Sure enough there were the puncture marks.
Pissed and grossed out, I lamented to MSMF that I didn't want to be chewed on again later that night. Here was his sweet reply:
"He ain't coming back."
"He just crawled away and DIED."
Jesus. Thanks honey.
The way he said 'crawled away and DIED" was dripping with disdain and loathing. What was not so indirectly implied by MSMF was that whatever bit me wasn't coming back for seconds because I killed it. It was dead. Whatever I'm made of, in my blood and bones, sent this thing to its grave. Now, I found this mostly humorous and we've had a laugh about it ever since but am I not worthy of being bitten a second time? Is the poison within better than Raid or whatever the fuck you kill human feeding bugs with?
Again, still think it's funny. But... I also haven't been bitten again. So. There's that.
No comments:
Post a Comment