I hate going to my apartment after dark because there are GIANT roaches that wait outside on the concrete steps. There are 30 or so steps that I have to take down to my apartment. I see it as a war zone and I am the enemy. I think one day that I will have to strap roach fogger spray to my body and run up and down those stairs until I’ve killed them all and I’ve passed out from the fumes. I hate roaches. I think they should all die a slow, painful death.
So, the other night I was moving stuff into my apartment and I start coming down the stairs with my first load. I see one on the stairs…looking at me. His disgusting roach gaze met me. I thought of turning back. But alas, I had about 7 more trips from my car to my apartment and I decided I wasn’t going to let this evil villain stop me from accomplishing the task at hand. So I marched forward. He turned and watched me as I went. I could feel him staring at me. And then I rounded the corner. He must have called for backup because his nastier and MUCH larger friend was waiting for me. I panicked…backing into the corner…but then realized that there could be one behind me too. Then the rage came up inside of me. Like that moment in The Patriot where Mel Gibson goes into a fury and slaughters all those enemy soldiers. That was me. There was death in my eyes. I took off a shoe and threw it at the monster. I was still scared though and so my shaky throw intended to smash and kill the giant monster missed him…but I scared him. He felt my fury and he ran.
I took my load inside and made my way back out and up those steps, this time with a little more fire in my step. As I walked toward these nasty creatures, they scattered away from me. I felt myself becoming more and more confident. After the 3rd trip, I realized 2 things:
- Roaches are more afraid of me than I am of them.
- The more of a commotion I make when they are near, the more afraid they become and the faster they run away.
So, each and every time I came down those stairs, I jumped and made a big commotion and the little bastards ran away…until the 5th trip…one met me in the middle of the sidewalk. I couldn’t go around him and my commotion didn’t seem to bother him. It was a battle of wills. He was turned to his side and as I got closer to him, I felt a tinge of fear and I hesitated. He felt it too and he turned toward me. There we were, looking at each other for a split second. Someone had to make a choice. So I did it. I smashed the evil demon under my foot. I then moved my foot and looked at what I had done. He laid there, twitching in pain. I thought about leaving him there the way he was but I wanted to send a message to his militia. And this is no stretch of the truth. I actually did this. I smashed him as hard as I could under my foot, then looked down and made sure that he was no longer recognizable as a living thing. Then I looked down to the 30 or so steps ahead of me and I saw the rest of his force and I said out loud, “Let that be a lesson to you all.” And I meant it.
No other roach came anywhere near me the rest of the night. I used to fear their deathly stares but now they fear ME. So, for all of you roaches out there, beware. I have a vendetta to kill you all. And this first death was only a lesson. The rest of you will not be so lucky to die in such a humane way…