Ants are a menace to civilized society. They crawl on us, they bite us, they ruin our food, and they look gross. Ants have plagued me for as long as I can remember.
My first memorable encounter with the tiny black demons occurred after my ballet class at the tender age of four. I was harmlessly frolicking through the bushes whilst waiting for my sister to finish her dance class, when to my HORROR I discovered that 20 or 30 ants had stowed away both on and in my leotard. Pandemonium ensued.
My last memorable encounter involved a putrid pile of my roommate's dirty laundry and a slice of pizza. Was there a piece of pizza in her laundry pile? Unfortunately no. A herd of minuscule, nearly microscopic fiery red minions of Satan had inhabited her laundry on account of something inedible to humans buried deep in the abyss of her composting underwear. I had seen a few tiny red ants around our apartment, but at that point in time I lived in a dumpy place and thought nothing of it. The next day when I actually discovered the laundry-turned-anthill my roommate had created at the foot of MY bed, I retreated to the kitchen in search of comfort. As I brainstormed options on how to avoid the infestation until my roommate got home, I decided to eat a slice of pizza left on the table from an earlier meal. A few bites in, something just didn't feel quite right. I looked down and realized that my snack was also crawling with disgusting tiny red ants, camouflaged by pepperoni and tomato sauce.
Questions I have never been able to answer.
I don't want any hubbub in the comments about the ecosystem and why ants are important. Ants can kiss my bum. Metaphorically speaking. I don't want ants anywhere near my bum, my house, my clothes, pizza, or my person.
Ants must go.