ANTZ!

This week, I had dinner in my apartment twice. It's been so long since the last time this happened, I can't even remember when it was. And what's my reward? ANTS! And not just one or two, a full-blown infestation. WTF? In two years of living there, I never saw any damn ants. I didn't see any when doing my stir-fry, but two hours later I came back to find the floor swarming with them. How are they getting in? I'm on the sixth floor for chrissakes! There were no telltale streams from the window or the back the door. Is there some sort of ant-sized wormhole lurking behind the stove?

Any punnya I've accumulated over the past few weeks by not stepping on beetles, capturing yellow jackets, or swatting flies has all been shot to hell with a few blasts of ant & roach spray. To get my mind off things, I finished up the dishes and--let me tell you--it was one ghastly walk back out of the kitchen amid all those tiny black corpses. At least they'd stopped writhing, but the sight of dozens of recently-living things curled up into inert little balls was more psychic disturbance than I needed on a night when I was already a bit anxious.

So I left them there and I'm dreading having to go back, sweep up all the bodies, and give the floor a good scrub down. Do I need to use something more noxious than Pine-Sol to prevent a repeat of this traumatic experience? Is there a service that hires out ant lions or aardvarks for domestic duty?