I love New Orleans. I really do. I love that you can smell flowers year-round, that when I bought groceries last night there was a jazz funeral across the street, that Muriel's serves the best best best duck ever served anywhere. I love how warm it is here, and how breezy it is at night. I love that you can forget you live on the coast until a quick breeze reminds you of salt water not too far away.
But I do have one complaint. The caterpillars have to go. These are not the cutesy caterpillars from your childhood. Oh no, these are heavily documented spawned-of-Satan caterpillars. I was brutally attacked by one of these evil doers a week ago and it is only now that I am able to speak of the harrowing event without breaking into a cold sweat.
I sat on my front stoop (isn't "stoop" a much better word than "step"?) and made sure not to crush any small creatures in the process. I noticed the caterpillars but, thinking them harmless, did nothing to protect myself from their outwardly innocent selves. All of the sudden I felt a brief but powerful sting on my right knee. I squealed and knocked at the area, brushing away an evil doer. As soon as my hand hit the creature, however, I felt the same powerful sting on my right ring finger. I ran up the steps and into my apartment and and ran both wounds under the faucet but both continued to sting considerably, enough to bring tears to my baby blues. After a couple hours of benadryl and pain meds I could handle the stinging but my knee and finger looked hideous, with a sort of grey tinge, tiny black dots, and a painful puffiness. A few days later both the grey and the puff were gone and replaced with tiny red dots. I know, serioulsy messed up.
So, dear New Orleans, I would request that you do something about the evil doers that clutter my sidewalk. They are evil and should be stepped on with escalating ferocity.
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