The Bug, the Bra, and the Computer Center

So here we are again... me apologizing for my month-long absence and you (hopefully) accepting it with a wary eye. For what it's worth, I am sorry for ditching my handful of loyal readers. I don't have a cool excuse... I wasn't called out for a 31-day top-secret CIA mission, and I didn't temporarily join Greenpeace to save the whales, and I didn't get mono like this guy... but a lot of other neat things have happened over the last few weeks, and also some not-so-neat things... and I'm back to tell you all about them, if you'll have me.

I figured that it might be easier for you to invite me back into your hearts if I gave you a funny story. It happened yesterday afternoon, and I debated writing about it at all... but I think I owe you at least that.

***

I had to go to an alumnus' presentation in a computer science class yesterday to write about it for work. When I got to the Computer Center, I sat down and noticed that there was a little bug from outside crawling on my shoulder. I brushed it away and didn't think anything else of it.

About fifteen minutes into the presentation, I felt something tickling my neck.... I scratched at it, thinking it was a piece of hair or something, and it stopped. Then a minute later, I felt something tickling my boob.

I'm not talking about cleavage here. I'm talking inside the bra - actual boob-age. Remember that I'm sitting in a classroom - a computer science classroom, at that - with all but two of the twenty people present being male, and we're sitting in a semi-circle around the speaker. In a situation like that, there's no coy way to reach into your bra and fish out a frisky insect.

In a fleeting moment of rationalization, I realized that I must have brushed the bug from my shoulder, to my neck, to my cleavage... and down the slope he went, into the abyss - the depths of the bra itself.

So I just sat up and tried to will it away... I employed every instance of self-motivation I could fathom - the inner-monologue pep talk, the monotonous chant, the if-you-just-ignore-it-it-will-go-away - but it didn't. It just kept on going, crawling and tickling.

Also, I think I might have been blushing.

The presentation lasted over an hour. 65 minutes of willing myself to ignore the fact that I was being violated in the middle of a classroom, surrounded by pubescent male college students.

As soon as I got out of there, I booked it to the bathroom, reached in, and promptly killed it. Stupid perv.

At least I got some action, though.

Unless it was a female bug. Then that's just gross.

Unless some guy is willing to pay for some girl-on-girl action... but then, where would we ever find a guy like that??