Like a month ago at an optometrist student friend's going away party / beach barbecue, I met a ton of new people, including this wispy (white) (late 20s) woman with brown hair and short shorts and an olive shirt.
She did massage, and was going out to northern Cali / Oregon to give cash-under-the-table massages to people who worked the pot harvest.
And then, she was done.
"I'm done touching other people," she said, softly.
"Oh," I was like. "How long have you been in massage therapy?".
"Two years," she was like.
Between the massages and helping out with the pot harvest, she was hoping to save enough to move to India for a while.
"Their philosophy resonates with me," she was like.
As we were snacking and talking by the taco table, some guy in swim shorts passed by and it looked like he had three bed bug bites on his back, two over below his left shoulder and one higher up on his right.
She saw me looking, and so I was like, "I think those are bed bug bites."
She then said that she stayed a month between leases with some friends, and she got 63 bites, and they stayed there for months, though some people don't react to the bites at all, like one of her friends.
So, that opened up a floodgate, and I told her about my bed bug ordeal.
Amidst all of that outpouring, I also told her how my bed bugs were back, but I hadn't had anything for like a week.
At that point, she was like, "I know they're gone, I get that vibe."
Monday, September 11, 2017
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