People. You are not going to believe this.
I went outside a little bit ago with a couple of co-workers to throw some bread to the ducks and geese in the "pond" in front of my office building (whole wheat bread...we want our office pond waterfowl to be healthy). I was standing there tossing wads of bread into the water and I happened to glance down and see that my pant legs ARE COVERED WITH ANTS. Ants are swarming all over the rocks directly under my feet. I was standing on an ant nest. I yelped and jumped off to the side and started trying to brush them off but the little buggers were quite tenacious and they weren't coming off (I quickly learned why). Further assessment of the situation yielded a trip to the terrace picnic table where I peeled off a sock (covered with ants) and folded back the cuffs of my pants (more ants). I started feeling these uncomfortable little prickling sensations and upon closer examination I realized the little fuckers were biting me. That's why they weren't coming off: they had their mandibles sunk into my clothing and my skin.
OK. Situation just escalated to critical. I beelined for the bathroom where I whipped my pants completely off, turned them inside out, and inspected every inch for ants. There were several, one of which had managed to crawl all the way up to the crotchal region. Can y'all say "Terror Alert Red?" I picked ants off my bare legs, stomped on the ones crawling around on the floor, conducted one more search for strays on my pants, and put them back on.
I successfully de-ansted my pants, but now my lower legs feel like they're on fire. It's really, really uncomfortable. This situation will only be assuaged by the internal application of several beers once I get home.
UPDATE: Legs feel better, but I'm still having the beer when I get home.