I suppose I should be a little bothered by the ants in the ladies room, but I'm kind of fond of them. They seem so determined and look as though they know where they are going. It seems to me as if the floor should be for them a tiled desert, a grim and vast white and shadowed wasteland. I picture miniature Charlton Heston-ants looking for a promised land. Ants with staffs.
But then sometimes the grout looks like a smooth paved street dicing up perfect city blocks. And then an ant or two will climb up out of the road to wander in curves across the tile and I wonder whether it crawls into a building or over it. Little Don Draper-ants with briefcases.