I Am Bigger Than The Burj Khalifa (And I Hate Ants)

A few nights ago I couldn’t sleep.

I crashed at around 11PM, optimistic that I’d get a decent night’s rest and wake in the morning at the usual 5AM as rested as that time span would allow. Instead, my eyes popped open at 2:30AM and I found myself unable to convince my brain that it needed to shut back down.

Rather than toss and turn all night in an unsleeping stupor, I slid out of my bed and went downstairs to the main room. I fixed myself a snack, sat down on the couch and fired up my Xbox One with Witcher 3. 

As I played what is arguably one of the best games I have ever played, I felt a little bit of a pinch on my knee. I didn’t think much of it until I felt a similar twinge of pain on my other leg. I paused my game and reached down to see if there was something actually there or whether my sleep-deprived mind was messing with me.

I was surprised to find a tiny dark ant on each of my legs. The little bastards had bitten me. Being a member of the top of the food chain and peeved that such small creatures would even try to nibble on me, I squished them both then put my feet up on the ottoman to prevent further breaches to my personal sovereignty.

After a little while I grew drowsy and decided to try my hand at sleeping again. I headed upstairs and as I lie in bed, my mind was drawn back to those ants (or more exactly, former ants.)

Proportion-wise, I am a gigantic mountain of a being compared to those ants. I am, by height comparison alone, approximately 592 times bigger than either of these little ants that bit me. Using another comparison just to drive the size disparity home, a being 592 times bigger than myself would be 3650 feet tall. The Burj Khalifa in the UAE is only 2700 feet high. This fictional me would be just shy of 1000 feet taller than that building, which is the tallest in the world, currently.

So now that all of that is established and you are up to speed, one question still remains.

Why in the blue hell would an ant bite me?

Now before we get too far, I know that ants aren’t the brightest species on the planet. But they aren’t the dullest either. They have a complex hierarchical structure, they can lift and transport many times their size and weight, and they create complex tunnel systems where they live, work, and reproduce.

Why are they biting me?!

They can’t possibly think an opponent the relative size of a skyscraper is something they can take back to the anthill. I’m clearly not a viable food source. I’m not even very sweet. As a matter of fact, I’m as close as you can get to being a human salt-lick. I’m beef jerky level salty. I may be a pretty sweet guy, personality-wise, but even mosquitoes say no to a drink at the DBW Cafe. It's science. 

So why are the ants attacking me?

Surely in their tiny little stupid ant brains they don’t think they can slay me and then invite their little family of millions of ants to each take a piece of me. Maybe they do though . . . maybe they are searching for the weak spots in the human anatomy and testing them. Like the raptor in the original Jurassic Park. However, unlike the Clever Girl Raptor, I don’t think these little asswipes of the insect kingdom remember much of anything like that.

It makes no sense why they’d dig their pincers into me!

Screw you bug! You little waste of protein and… and… FLUIDS! Yeah, so you bit me. Guess what I did? Took my thumb and forefinger and popped your little exoskeleton like a tiny little gross piece of crap grape! Three grapes actually. Head, thorax, abdomen: all less than a speck of dirt between my fingers. That’s you, ant. You’re dead. Your stupid little mission to scout out and collect food ended in you smeared on a deity-sized thumb. How’s that feel? Was it worth it? WAS IT??? Hope you took a good chunk out of me because it was your last frikkin' meal! HA! Judge, jury, and executioner right here!


So… in any case. I bought some ant traps...