Well, guess which percentage I fall into. Welts, trails of lumps, funky shapes, and itch itch itch itch itch, all the way home. My reaction to these bites is, in fact, so horrible, the only thing that keeps my crippling arachnophobia in check is the thought that the eight-legged monsters of my nightmares, which I fear irrationally, work continuously to deplete the population of the even more foul mosquito, which I fear with good reason.
A recent (and thankfully rare) heatwave in SF brought out the buzzing little buggers, and I have the wounds to prove it. I see this as an opportunity to share with my fellow sufferers a remedy that changed my life.
Yes, it's that simple. Hydrocortisone, colloidal oatmeal, and other ointments barely take the edge off. But, a few years ago around a campfire at a rodeo when I was near tears with discomfort, someone told me to try chopped onion. Skeptically, I went to the cooler and grabbed a few dices from a large bag I'd chopped up for breakfast burritos the next day. Hopeless, I held them directly on my exacerbating welts. Oh lordie, the itching stopped. Almost instantly. It worked so well, I didn't even really mind that after awhile I started to develop a slight miasma of eau de taxi driver.
So here I sit, typing this post with small pieces of this bulbous vegetable affixed to my arms in a patchwork of Band-Aids, filled with relief instead of distracting annoyance. What kind of pal would I be if I didn't pay forward such worthy advice? Stink it up, my afflicted friends, stink it up.