Don't pet the cactus!

It sounds pretty basic doesn't it?
I grew up around cactus. You just don't touch them. They will always leave an impression.
In the neighborhood where I grew up lived Kip P. A smart guy. Studied calculus in the 8th grade. He would eat the red part of the cactus where the flower pops out. Somehow he could get the little teeny weenie needles off the bulb before he ate it. Amazing! You think I would have learned. Move ahead 30+ years - while working one day in Bullhead, Arizona I was performing a "punch list" at our new store. Stick was the superintendent. Shelly was really the superintendent. Stick and Shelly are my friends. They live Arizona. Experts on cactus and indigenous plants. That day I was observing with them plants in the landscaping area that I have never seen before. Stick was eager to share his knowledge of all the plants. My intrigue took me to a small plant that was covered with fur. What do most people do when confronted with fur? Pet it! Holy Buckets! What kind of fur was this? I remember a voice behind me yelling as I reached for the plant. The same voice that consequently shrieked "are you crazy" "you don't touch that cactus!". Really?!!! Shelly was kind enough to not cry when she was simultaneously pulling each little needle and laughing uncontrollably. I won the stupid award that day.

Stupid is as stupid does. I'm in Arizona again. I have my 105 macro lens with me. My dream of a prize winning nature photo of a cactus needle waited impatiently. The past experience in Bullhead heightened my desire to photo the originator of my agony. It is important that everything be perfect. The camera had to be on the tripod. Nikons R1C1 flash system was attached to the lens. Everything was ready for perfection. Except that little tiny leaf stuck in the small needles. The leaf was removed. I ran in circles, tore my suit case apart looking for tweezers, wish I had not put my fingers to my mouth to bite off the new painful silia protruding from my fingers and yelled out loud (no cussing though, unless crap ola counts). It's pretty tricky putting a camera away, and driving a car to the nearest convinience store with only one hand and your bottom lip sticking out.
"Can you help me pull needles out of my lip and fingers?" I asked the store manager.
"What did you do?" She asked.
I really don't remember my response. I do however remember her telling me that she wouldn't tell anyone if I didn't. I have a hard time keeping my promises.