I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka. So...have a heart?

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


I have but one phobia: Roaches.

Snakes, frogs, rats, mice, whatever. They don't phase me. I think they're cute. But show me a roach, and I can sympathize with people who stand on chairs and scream when they see a mouse.

I. Hate. Roaches.

It's less hate, and more "blind terror." I am blindly terrified of roaches. They render me mute and unable to move, while I process that my most hated of all beings, is in my house.

In Florida, roaches aren't so much a possibility, as an inevitability. Little German roaches, big Palmetto Bugs. ::shudder::

I rarely see them in my house, because I'm fastidious. But every now and then, they rear their ugly little heads and crawl out of a drain, or creep under a door...

The other day in the kitchen, one fell out of god-knows-where. I chalked it up to a solitary roach. But today... Today I opened my desk drawer and there was... A ROACH! A small German roach.

And he nestled deep among my "beloved junk." So I did what any sane person would do: I sprayed my beloved junk with Raid. Then, I went outside, and sprayed the perimeter of all my doors with Raid. Then I came back inside to see whether the roach was dead, because I couldn't bear to sleep in the same room as a roach.

It was not. So I took my beloved junk, and brought the drawer to my spare bathroom, where I spent fifteen minutes pulling my junk out of the drawer, and shuffling it around with a Sharpie. I caught glimpses of my foe every minute or two, and then he'd run underneath a pad of Post-Its or a lighter, or one of the many Zippo lighters I get at bars when I'm drunk.

After more Raiding on my beloved junk, I isolated the little beast, and flushed him down the toilet, with much recoiling in horror and much silent screaming.

Now, I have all this crap strewn about the floor of my bathroom. I suppose I should put it all back and deal with it later... Ugh.

But two roaches in a week makes me think I'm going to need to take MUCH more drastic measures. I think it's time to bomb the house. And to load up on more Raid traps... and those egg killer pads.

You might think I'm going overboard. But dying of Raid induced cancer, or having a baby with no eyes and fifteen arms is way more preferable than sharing any living space with roaches.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to breathe into a paper bag. I was just about to engage in my "pre-bedtime" wind-down activity... but... even that's ruined, because it shared the same drawer as that PEST.

Oh my god. So awful.


Blogger Laura said...

I feel your pain. I can't kill any kind of bug without having a minor spasm and screaming like a banshee. Fortunately for me, San Francisco is basically bug-free. Don't ask me why, but it is. Move to San Fran.

9:04 PM

Blogger Rootietoot said...

Roaches are the only thing that send me into the vapors. Snakes, spiders, pit bulls...ehn. Even a cougar across the pond was cause for wonder rather than alarm.
But roaches, those big greasy palmetto bugs and the little sneaky evil german roaches will send me up on the table shouting for backup. Finding a little black pellet in my pantry causes an complete emptying, washing and lysol and a liberal application of Bengal (which, in my experience, works even better than the Terminix guy).
no...no roaches. no how, no where. nope.

4:19 AM

Anonymous The Brewer Patriot said...

What really sucks is that sometimes, when you flush them down, they find something to grab on to and don't get totally flushed. And then they climb back out towards your b-hole at a later date.

5:50 AM

Anonymous sigh. said...

Just a heads up. If you see one, chances are there are thousands. Apparently, one female roach can produce millions of offspring in a single year. You might want to move soon.

6:51 AM

Blogger Andy said...

My old apartment was a freakin' roach-hole. Awful. Of course, my building was subsidized housing filled with dirty puerto ricans and my dirtier roommate who loved to leave food laying about.

Man I am so glad I am out of that place.

7:46 AM

Blogger SuperBee said...

Laura: Maybe I should move to San Francisco. Except for that whole California Bar Exam and ridiculous cost of Living thing...

RT: I thought you'd be okay with the Buggies. I'm glad to hear that no matter how hearty your constitution, seeing una cucaracha still gives you the vapors.

TBP: No. He's flushed and gone. DO YOU HEAR ME?! FLUSHED AND GONE.

Sigh: I know. Because I've seen two, that's why I'm officially freaking out. I'm going to bomb the house this weekend.

Andy: Wasn't your old roommate the Brewer Patriot? He's a filthy man, who has an even filthier and more ugly and ghastly home. (Read: I want his loft.)

8:55 AM

Blogger Rootietoot said...

Bengal Gold Roach Spray. At $10 a can it's not cheap, but boy does it work. If you spray it right on a roach, it goes into these torturous spasms and twitches and wretched flailing of antenae and then it dies. Most satisfactory.

11:28 AM

Blogger belledame222 said...

see, this is why i can never, ever live in Florida. and I live in New York City.

4:54 PM

Blogger SuperBee said...

Yeah, but you guys have Roaches too. :)

8:09 PM


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