When I moved into my apartment, I established a truce with the local creepy-crawlies. I wouldn’t bother them when they chilled on my patio, and they wouldn’t come inside the apartment. Most of them seemed to have gotten the memo.
Except for Jeremy.
Jeremy is an amber-colored cockroach the length of my thumb, and he set up camp in the corner of my bathroom ceiling while I was in the shower.
Jeremy: Hey, SE! You should dust once in a while.
Me: What the f#$&?!
Jeremy: I know, I know. No one thinks about dusting their shower, but this little ledge where your shower meets the wall collects dust.
Me: You’re a f#$&ing cockroach. In my f#$%ing shower.
Jeremy: I’d help you out. Really, I would. These scrawny little arms can’t hold onto anything.
I’d only just finished rinsing the shampoo from my hair, so I couldn’t exactly hop out of the shower then and there. That left me the choice of standing with my back to Jeremy (and being unable to see him if he decided to join me in the tub) or staring the creepy little bastard down. I decided to keep my eye on him.
And of course, Jeremy didn’t shut up the whole time.
Jeremy: Apart from the dust, you’ve got a nice bathroom here. I really like your shower curtain; is it from Target?
I bolted out of the shower and the bathroom in record time, and I made doubly sure that the bathroom door clicked shut. I also hoped against hope that Jeremy wouldn’t scoot out the half-inch gap between the door and the linoleum floor.
Then, I dressed for battle. Meaning I tossed on my over-sized Twilight nightshirt, stepped into black-and-white plaid pajama pants, donned my cowboy boots, and tucked said pajama pants into said cowboy boots. Because I was going to be damned if Jeremy crawled up my boot and into my pants.
I gathered a broom and a glass bowl with a lid from the pantry before heading back into the bathroom. I was only partially relieved when I saw that Jeremy hadn’t left his corner above the shower. Only partially because I still had to get him out of my apartment.
Jeremy: They say that you’re not supposed to shower without the fan running, but I love how all the steam turns the entire bathroom into a spa.
Me: All right, motherf#$%er, time to get your ass out of my apartment.
I used the broom’s bristles to gently tap Jeremy’s behind and encourage him out of the corner. He wasn’t exactly thrilled.
Jeremy: Hey, what’s this? What’re these blue pieces of straw bumping against my butt for?
I pressed the glass bowl into the corner of the shower, right in Jeremy’s path. He balked at stepping over the rim. Tried to go left and then right. But I used every iota of resolve in me to herd him toward the bowl rather than dropping everything and running out of the apartment while screaming THERE’S A F#$%ING COCKROACH IN MY BATHROOM at the top of my lungs.
Then suddenly, Jeremy scuttled into the bowl, and I nearly whooped with joy. I eased the bowl and the broom to the floor, and reached for the black lid. Just as I was ready to swap out the broom for the lid, I realized something: I couldn’t see Jeremy through the bowl’s glass bottom.
Jeremy: Ya’know, I don’t like that clear dome-thing. It almost looks like there ain’t anything there to keep me from falling to my death. So I’m gonna just hang out here on this blue straw roof.
Me: You’ve got to be kidding me. How am I going to get him outside now?
Foresight is 20/20. I’d unlocked the sliding glass door in my bedroom that opens out onto the patio, which meant one less thing to struggle against; however there was still the challengeof maneuvering through my narrow apartment with a broom handle held horizontally and then opening the slider without my hands.
I managed it. I created new swears under my breath, but I managed it. I released Jeremy into the wild that is my patio.
Jeremy: This… isn’t your bathroom. Is it? Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice, but I’d rather go back inside.
Me: No f#$%ing way.
Jeremy: Cool, cool, I get it. It’s your apartment. I’m just gonna scurry under the deckbox over there. See you tomorrow!
Me: I better not.
Fortunately for me, I haven’t spotted Jeremy anywhere. Not in my apartment and not on my patio. Maybe he’s found another bathroom to call home. Or maybe a pantry somewhere. There are lots of apartments in my complex after all. I really don’t care, so long as he stays the f#$% out of my apartment.