I Killed the Queen

We had Ants. I will capitalize "Ants" out of respect for the poor fuckers who are now all dead.

It started with a few Ants wandering around aimlessly on the linoleum tiles of the bathroom floor. The cats weren't interested in them and I found them only mildly annoying as I watched them while sitting on the toilet. "We have to get rid of these ants," I would think. Then I would flush the toilet and go back to my bedroom to stare out the window for a while. My mom told me to watch them closely and I'd see some kind of trail but I just saw black specks mingling chaotically.

Then, as the days passed, it appeared that these Ants had found their purpose. They were now walking in a single file line next to the bathtub and coming in and out of the bathroom door--from somewhere to somewhere. But where? I did not know. It started to bother me that they had a system. "We really have to do something about these goddamn ants." I would think. I finally got down on my hands and knees and followed them out of the bathroom and up the legs of the kitchen table. They were all over the table. Gross. How could I have missed this every day? This was the table where my roommates and I kept pre-recyclables (gently rinsed trash waiting to be brought downstairs). There was a paper bag filled with old magazines, an ice cream carton, a pseudo-washed jar of honey and a couple of empty beer bottles. The Ants were particularly enjoying the honey jar. There were about 100 Ants sucking the side of the jar, frozen it seemed--in ecstasy. Supposedly ants fill up with food and then return to the colony to regurgitate it back to the others. I was feeding an entire colony of Ants with an old honey jar.

But where were they coming from? I followed the trail back to the bathroom and discovered their point of entry in a tiny crack next to the shower. These fuckers were amazing! They were living underground somewhere and somehow smelled honey in my second floor apartment, tunneled their way up through the walls of the building, squeezed out of a crack next to the shower, marched along the bathroom floor, up the kitchen table, onto the prized jar of honey, back down the table leg, into the bathroom, up the wall next to the shower, into the crack, back through the tunnels in the walls of my building, down underground to god-knows-where colony to feed the zillions of Ants and their beloved queen.

I was fascinated by these tiny evil (not so evil) beasts. I watched one carrying a dead one. For 15 minutes it tried to stuff its poor deceased friend back into the crack. It tried every possible angle but I was worried it might have to leave it there unattended. I felt bad for it and wanted to help it along. "No, no, you back into the crack first and then pull the dead one in after you. Yes, yes, there you go." Finally it figured it out by itself. I wondered if they were gonna give it a proper burial. Would they have a ceremony? I imagined a million Ants gathered in a circle while the dead one was carried in. Small bonfires would be burning, and there would be chants. It would look like the scene in that Indiana Jones movie, though I don't remember which one.

After disposing of the recyclables and spraying the kitchen table with Mr. Clean, the Ants were scattering all over the place. "Where the F is that damn honey??" They were thinking, "Shit, shittttt! Queen's gonna kill us!" Then they power walked their way back to the crack. Sure, removing the food source was going to get rid of them, but next they were going to go after the cat food, I know it. So...

I went to the hardware store and bought a tube of combat ant killing gel. On the back of the gel it said to avoid contact with skin. If I did get it on myself I was supposed to rinse vigorously for 15-20 minutes. 15-20 minutes?!?! This shit was toxic. I squeezed half the tube onto the Ant crack.

I spent the day sitting on the bathroom floor, watching the Ants as they set in motion their impending death. The poison had become the new honey. The blob of honey-looking ant killing gel was now covered in oblivious ants. They were filling their bodies with poison so they could return to the colony and feed the others. I imagined the reguritation and devouring of the poison. "Great job!" The queen would say. "Where did you find this stuff, this is incredible! Tastes homemade!"

But later that night it would strike like a stomach flu. The ant who had first filled up with poison would grab its stomach and say "Ooooh I don't feel so good." It would stumble around in pain for a while and fall over, moaning. Then it would finally breathe its last Ant breath and its mini soul would leave this earth forever. Others in the colony would be wondering what was going on. "Somethin' didn't agree with him, I guess" they'd say, glad it was not them. But soon they would be grabbing and moaning and keeling over as well. Soon it would be all over. They would be wiped out completely. And yes, that's exactly what happened.

That night I went out to dinner and when I came back a few hours later there was only one ant devouring the poison. The others were back at the colony, spreading death. The next day they were all gone. A part of me missed their complex feeding arrangement. But there was no way to get them back. I had done the damage. Goodbye bathroom Ants.