Ate at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place Sunday and Monday this week, and I was reacquainted with the fact that mosquitos bite me in there. I love the food, but during the summer (and really in the spring and fall as well) I leave with at least a few insect bites and scratch myself all over the place.
Monday made it crystal clear to me. I left with a bite on each arm. I thought I got a little more tolerant of insect bites, but I've scratched it enough since that the bites have turned into red welts.
I, however, tried to brave it one more time. I wanted to watch ESPN's coverage of Game 7 of the NBA Finals. (Hell of a game, and a series, huh?) The only place I know I could listen was the TV at the Late-Night Italian Place, so I decided to brave it one more time -- but this time, I'd be ready: I brought bug spray with me. So before I went -- I decided to start work on my NBA Finals article at Caffetto before having a bite to eat -- I sprayed myself down. They'd never bite me now, those skeeter bastards!
Welp, they did. Just as I was finishing up I felt this twinge on my back. Oh, shit. Then I felt the urge to itch on the back of my shoulders. Then I remembered: The damn things can bite me through my clothes!!!
How do they do that? Well, maybe I have to look at this from a mosquito's perspective. Not that they are bloodthirsty, though they technically are. It's just that they don't see a shirt; they see strands of fabric, and if you look closely enough, I think you can see spaces inbetween from which to touch down and suck my blood. Fuck me.
So now I can't go this place until November??? I'm annoyed by all the scratching I need to do, so, yeah, I guess so. At least I can save money that way, right?
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