This is an off-the-farm story, but it was so absolutely hilarious and country,  am going to share….at my own expense.

So, yesterday, we finished up this monster garage sale.  The temperature was almost 100 degrees by the end of the day.  We were hot, tired, and thoroughly soaked in sweat.  My mascara had migrated to my neck.  My clothes bore the dirt and dust of eight hours of a yard sale.  After depositing the last truckload (third) of leftovers at Goodwill, we decided to run into Rusk for a six pack of SOMETHING.  Honestly, at that point, it didn’t even matter, just as long as it was cold, and had some kind of alcohol content.  This is what we do in Texas after a long, hot day.  It just is.

Anyway, we were well on our way, when we noticed a couple, probably in their late 50s or so, with a flat tire.  The man was under the truck, and the woman was standing by, trying to assist her husband.  The entire situation just screamed, “We need some help”, so we turned around and got out.  Here we are, on the side of an extremely busy, dangerous highway.  The man was trying to free the spare from underneath the truck and couldn’t get it loose.  You could see the anxiety in the woman’s face.  Bear in mind, it’s also about 100 degrees, with the pavement being much more than that.  Jason asked if we could help, and when he told the man he knew how to get the spare loose, you could see the relief in their faces.  So the man shimmied out from under the truck, and I swear, for a second, I thought he was either going to pass out or get sick.  Jason works in an un-airconditioned shop all year, so he is very used to the heat.  This man worked indoors for his job, as we found out, so I’m really glad that we got there in time before he had a stroke or something.

So, the tire was changed, the couple gave Jason some Gatorade and hand wipes and ‘Thanks’, and we were walking back to our truck.  The grass this time of year is very tall on the sides of the highways.  I was in a long skirt.  I stopped just in time to see a huge black widow on one of the stalks of grass where I was about to step.  Whew!  Deadly spider bite averted.  What I did NOT avert, apparently, was a huge pissed-off mound of fire ants. 

For those of you who are unfamiliar with fire ants, consider yourselves fortunate.  Each sting is like a tiny ember of fire on your skin.  Jason opened my door (as he always does), and I felt fire all over my feet.  CRAP!  FIRE ANTS!  I was brushing them off as fast as I could, when I noticed they were not just on my feet, but my arms, hands, and ALL OVER MY CLOTHES. 

Ok, big decision here.  Should I:

A.  Keep brushing off the unknown quantity of ants, and try my best to keep my panic level under control, whilst keeping on my clothing in the company of strangers, or,

B. Rip off my clothes in a never-before-seen manner, whilst flinging them around frantically, like a rabid spider monkey.

Well, you guessed it, I chose “B”. 

I ripped off my skirt in about a nanosecond, threw it at Jason, frantically brushing the ants off of my legs, torso, and shirt, all in the presence of two absolutely complete strangers WHO NOW HAVE OUR BUSINESS CARD.

I prayed to God that they didn’t see too much of what was going on, but I don’t know what all they DID see, and I didn’t really care at the moment.  At least I was wearing undergarments!  As we took off, I hung my ant-filled skirt out the window at 70 miles per hour, still trying to dislodge ants.  A helluva way to end a day!