It's Jess, the girl whose identity Emily is stealing. Actually. Both jobs, bed, friends, onesie.
Ok so, from the top I look like a lepher, tiny scabs, bumps, gross, all over my legs and arms, the few to the face really hit me hard though, a walking advertisement for the glamorous 'Palace'. So after harassment from everyone and the new girl seeing a tiny white creature crawling across her freshly made bed as she plants down her rucksack, Dave comes in to investigate. After a condescending and patronising national geographic run down on bed bugs in their natural habitat from a madman scurrying himself amongst the curtains, he found a live one! So as he showed off his catch, it ran erratically around. Realisation hit me, getten bitten is one thing, blah blah, stopped even noticing it, but seeing the fucking little critter that's been sucking your blood for the past month or so is something else. And some how it's our fault, like we brought them on ourselves, you because we chose to sleep in a room with 6 big enough for 4. Yep, class.
And so the evacuation begins, Dave's solution to simply hang the duvets outside so the bigger insects to eat the bed bugs didn't fill us with much confidence. Kerri took control, ex military knows what to do, I'm scared, Emily's ginger, jos fucked again. Everything has to be washed clothes, bedding, beds, curtains. Resulting in, us all in our pants ( underwear you Canadians, pants are trousers, just sayin) and tshirts we later found out were given to us by mr bedbug himself/ I'm keeping my tye dye I really like it. So much so I wouldn't let Emily wear it when he own 'communist' tshirts wouldn't cover her gstring. I thank myself for Bridget jones lending me her underwear. So the military continued, single file down to the apartment in our 'undies', a few awkward aushwitz jokes made forgetting me shared a room with 3 Germans. Well ones Swedish but potato patato. Then we cured our pain with alcohol, Emily had her usual 3 chugs from the red wine and was fucked it's not her fault though, my mum gets drunk quickly too, must be age.
So at this point I get up the next day and conveniently have to work all day, I know, honestly I wanted to help move 6 peoples shit and help wash all their clothes but I'm a working girl. So I'll go by stories now, the girls are driven up to the only laundrette in Nelson/ it's actually 20 mins outside of the city. Dave's pays for the dry cleanings, well some, as I understand it he still owes Jo $10. She'll be Emily's age before she ever sees that. Ems narrating to me now, 5 loads later we have shrunken clothes and missing pants, karma hits Jo hard, weeks of ridiculing Emily's floppy bunny, Fred, the beloved teddy bear comes out of the dryer, toasted, fried. Maybe if she didn't buy a teddy made of polyester it wouldn't have happened but it's an open wound so we won't rub salt in it. I just got a death glare.
But duty still called and onesies were donned to trap other unsuspecting people to stay at the bug palace, all while the extermination team are sterilising our room. You know you're in a mental house when the sanest people are sleeping with insects and wearing dinosaur costumes as their daily attire. And right now I'm doing Emily a favour so she doesn't have a mental breakdown over her last post deleting and she's rewarding me by tweaking and break dancing. I'm a writer at work guys.
So alas, we were carted back into our bug nest, with promises of cleanliness, and to be fair to dave or the extermination team, we haven't had a bite since.
Oh except the main house, apparently it's spread. Suckers.
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