There are times in life when you want to have a little privacy. Sometimes you want an extra special lot of privacy. Lets just imagine that it is one of those times, and perhaps you, the privacy-seeker, are sitting, seeking privacy, in a special private room on a special special seat (yes, perhaps you know what I am saying now? The special seat with the magical flushing properties?) And so you are sitting, having special private time, and perhaps flipping through a weekly publication, when out of the corner of your eye you see a little twitch.
“Hmmm,” you think to yourself, “was that a little twitch over there near the tub?” No, no, perhaps it was just an eye spasm.
“TWITCH!!!”
“Yes, perhaps that was a little twitch, perhaps I will casually cast my eyes twitch-ward and see what might be making that twitchy motion,” you may think casually to yourself.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
And then you realize that your special private time is not so special or private because you have a little companion, your old friend periplaneta americana, the American cockroach. And he is watching you poo. And he has a really good seat, right up by all the action. And he is BIG. He is thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis long, not including his wavy antler things. And he looks like maybe he is starting to feel restless, and he might want to get in on the excitement a little.
And now you are in a very bad situation. You do some leaping (partially-clad) and screaming of “DIE DIE YOU M*&!#RF@#%#R” and some other not so nice language. The perverty roach spectator does not like this one bit, and there is running and leaping on his part, and most likely little roachy screaming as well. And you kill him, almost, with a well aimed flip flop. You thank the lord above that this one time you managed to pull out some kind of hand eye coordination that was never there in middle school (perhaps the lack of clothing helps unfetter your throwing arm?). But the killing is not complete and he starts up, much slower now, with more of the twitching and lazy antler waving. And you prepare yourself accordingly (by using half a roll of toilet paper to insulate your hand from his body) and dispatch him to the only fitting place, since he was soooo interested in the first place, and flush him around and down.
And how was your weekend?
2 comments:
oh dear -- that is uniquely uncomfortable. i had a similar experience a few weeks when i found a big cockroach CLIMBING INTO MY SNEAKER. i freaked. and even after i killed it, i didn't want to touch it because it was nasty and crunchy. and now i check all my shoes.
All in all, I think you handled that pretty well. Like I did when I was just about to fall asleep one night and saw a spider ON my pillow! Yikes!!
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