I am a sweaty child. You might not know this by looking at me, but I am constantly sweating. It’s one of my dirty little secrets that I try to mask with four coats of deodorant every day, but if your skin were to graze mine, my sticky-sweet sweat would coat you so thickly that to effectively dry it, you would need one of those high-powered dryers they use at the car wash.
Usually, I don’t think too much of this because as long as I, unlike Selena Gomez, can keep my hands to myself, no one will know about my tragic surplus of perspiration. But then, I found out about the unfortunate existence of sweat bees, the parasitic nuisances that now plague my nightmares and have made me rethink my laissez-faire attitude toward my sweats. After all, these bees feed on SWEAT, which makes up about 96% of the water that makes up 60% of my body. Just imagine the number of sweat bees that could swarm to me at once.
And to be clear, the bee attack itself doesn’t worry me––their sting isn’t even that strong. What worries me is the scene they will cause. Everyone knows that sweat bees feed on sweat, and if I publicly attract, say, sixty-seven bees, everyone will know that I am a sweaty, sweaty bean, and I don’t know if that is a reputation I can bear.
And maybe this newfound fear of sweat bugs exposing my true disgusting self is irrational, but as summer continues to linger, who can blame me? At the least, I know that I’ll have a few friends and family, who will sacrifice themselves to the sweat bees for my sake.
No, they haven’t yet told me this, but to ensure that they will be my hero, I’ve compiled a playlist to remind everyone close to me of at least one heart-warming moment that we shared together, so that they’ll remember how much I mean to them, and surely, I’ll mean enough to them that they will protect my reputation from the sweat bees.