Tuesday, October 03, 2006

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??

6 comments:

Frema said...

Oh God, Becky, I don't know if I would've had the wherewithal to make it through that presentation! Hats off to you.

We'll be waiting patiently for those stories. See you this Saturday at Homecoming!

Frema said...

Also, Phil is one sick bastard.

Anonymous said...

though phil is one sick bastard, it is possible that the roommates of APT 201 once did own a piece of literature -- which shall remain nameless -- featuring girl on bug action....adding irony to the mix of humor in this fabulous story.

becky said...

Annie... it's also possible that I still own that "piece of literature"... along with the 50-Foot Woman, "I'm a person with thoughts, feelings, and beliefs," and a picture of you with a "beverage" spilled all over your shirt and five hats on your head.

Man I miss college.

Also, for the record, I would like to point out that I never called Phil a sick bastard... that was Frema and Annie. (The man has some anger issues... lock your doors.)

deuber said...

Hilarious story Becky. Had I only known at Rico's on Friday... drat.

Phil is a sicko.

Sincerley,

sicko

deuber said...

Um, this story is like 10 days old, Becky.