‘Death’ to Roachie

It’s been written about bugs on Kottu before, here . ‘Stomp, Stomp’ it said.

I never expected to come in such close contact with their kind so soon.

I hate cockroaches. I don’t just hate them like I get mad and wanna kill ‘em all. I FEAR THEM. They’re just so sicky looking – they make my skin crawl. and when they fly??? *shudder* Creation could not have brought on something more disgusting.

Lately, my loo seems to have turned into a haven for the solitary Roach. Yes. Those Coke colored, 6 legged, feely winged,  creepy crawly, sicky looking monsters from the drain pipe.

I dunno where the hell they come from, and I sure as hell dont wanna find out.

Most times I see the creature before I start cleaning up, so I can go to the other bathroom which, so far, thankfully has been roach free. Monday night though – I wasn’t so lucky.

I had got in the shower and turned on the water, when i made the grave mistake of looking up.  On the ceiling there stood a wiggly antennae’d roachie.  I froze in my tracks. It wasnt moving, but I was about to run screaming.  I quickly weighed my options and decided that I should finish my shower as soon as possible and get the hell out before it decided to find a better spot.

I was done showering in the next 15 seconds, and as I was getting out of the shower, I saw a second roach. On the door. Which was CLOSED. *silent scream* and he was resting EXACTLY on the door hinge – so if i tried to open the door he WOULD fly. And THAT was something I could not handle.

I stood there wondering how the fuck to get out.  And then realized there was no choice. I had to open the door. There were two of them. (and one colossal me, but I can’t fly, now can I?)

I decided to trust that this loathsome bug wouldn’t take to the air.

I trusted in vain.

The moment I unlatched the door he flew – fucking right at me!! I naturally screamed bloody murder, so much so that the other three members of my family came rushing to the loo to see if  I had been electrocuted or if the taps were leaking blood and there was a dead woman in the bath tub.

I opened the door and bolted – with a frantic “KARAPOTHTHEK!” to my dad.

And guess what? I got yelled at.

Yes.

They called me a baby – and ridiculed me for having been reduced to a screaming lunatic girl by a mere cockroach.

What do they know? It didn’t fly at them.

I went to sleep that night thinking of hordes of cockroaches swarming my room, and of those Kafka ads I had seem before, where the dude wakes up and finds he’s a giant Roachie himself, and praying to Jesus, Mary, and the Three Wise Men that I wouldn’t have nightmares of being eaten by one.

(* I also happened to make the mistake of typing  ‘Cockroach’  into Google search -  just to be bombarded with pictures of more roaches i think my colleagues thought i was having some sort of seizure.)

*bleurgh*