Candy.

I went into the Bank of America branch after I got married with the paperwork to change my name on our joint account. I was seated with a lovely Chinese woman whose wig was a Farrah Fawcett knock-off, cheap and parked on her head at an angle: as she stabbed at the keyboard trying to figure out how to access the bank's files, I noticed an ant crawling on my arm.

Then one on my leg.

Then one on the desktop.

They were lined up straight to her candy dish that was overflowing with ants.

But there was another trail I saw then, one that went up the arm of business suit and INTO HER WIG. So as she is asking me questions, periodically an ant will crawl onto her face or into her ear, and although she swats them away she doesn't seem surprised at ALL.

I'm just staring at all of this until she hands me the forms to sign (I kill an ant with my signature) - and then she OFFERS ME THE BOWL OF CANDY. That is full of ants.

I politely declined and ran out of there. I itched like crazy all the way home.