Last week there was a note beneath my door:
Dear Resident:
PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT WESTERN PEST CONTROL WILL BE SERVICING THE APARTMENTS ON THE 8TH FLOOR ON THE FOLLOWING DATE: THURSDAY 5/3/07.
“Joy,” I thought. I’d seen not one pest since I moved to the dee-luxe apartment in the sky. I don’t like when maintenance has to come in, mainly because I have to pick my brassieres and shoes off of the floor. But now I have the fangy little mutt to deal with. Not wanting him to be scared/aggressive when strange people come in, or to flee the apartment altogether, I made arrangements for him to spend Thursday with BvP. (This single parent thing…I tells ya…)
Last night, as I was putzing around in Second Life* I saw them. Ants. Coming in from my air conditioner/heater unit, up the leg of my computer table (central command) and across the tabletop.
While I was stomping, scrubbing, and dousing their path with white vinegar, I did take a moment to marvel at their ambition. These ants climbed up eight stories just to see me! Just to die!
If you need me, I’ll be the crazy person splashing Clorox on the side of my building.
*Meh. If I wanted to stand around feeling awkward and have nobody talk to me at bars and clubs, I’d be living my first life, thankyouverymuch.
Were they Disney ants from “A Bugs Life” or ants from that other ant movie “Ants”?
Definately “Ants.” They’re not blue!
Did any of them sound like Woody Allen?
Now that you mention it, as I smashed one I could have sworn I heard a high-pitched “Sooooooon-Yiiiiiiiii!”
ROTFL