what has a hundred legs and is about to die?

(old email from 6.03.03)

**Rated F for F-bombs.**


Stop me if you've heard this one...

So, this morning I turn on the shower, and do my now-standard "look around the shower for big bug" check. Seeing none, I take off my glasses and get into the shower. While I'm in there, I think about how silly I am to check for these big damn bugs every day. It's no longer monsooning outside like it was the day of the two assaults. Foolish girl, I thought. Foolish girl.

At the end of my shower, I turn off the water, grab my towel, and step onto the floor. Through my incredibly poor vision, which most closely resembles trying to see through a sheet of wax paper, I notice a dark spot on the wall above the door in the bathroom--a spot I've never noticed before, even with my bad vision. Convinced this "spot" must be another centipede out to get me, I put on my glasses, only to realize that they are completely fogged-up by the steam from the shower.

Cautiously, I reach and open the bathroom door, inviting fresh air in to de-fog my spectacles. I fan the air in front of my face hoping to speed the process, while the whole time I'm on the verge of hyperventilating because if this spot is, in fact, another centipede out to get me, what will I do? Andrea is not home. My bug-killer has left already.

While I'm deciding this, the fog clears. Slowly, I lift my eyes to the corner of the wall and...

Oh holy hell!!! It IS another centipede out to get me!!! I bolt out of the bathroom, put on some flip-flops, run to the kitchen, and dig around for some poisonous spray. In the back of my mind, I hear animal-loving Karen saying "Trap it. Save it. Put it in a jar." But I think, fuck that. Raid would be most ideal right now. But I'll settle for Windex or Pledge or anything else that might kill that mo-fo without me having to touch it. And then, like a dream come true, I spot the Raid under the kitchen sink, which I am afraid to grab because it too is in a dark, damp place, and could have centipedes crawling all over it.

Eventually, I make my way back to the bathroom, fully armed. I decide I should stand up on the toilet seat for the best Angle of Death, but as Andrea knows, that is not a wise idea on our toilet--the damn lid shifted and I nearly took a header into the wall. Only half breathing, I step back down from the toilet, tell the bug "You're about to die, you little fucker," and give him a good shot of Raid.

He squirms! He flinches! He flails! He...falls to the floor right in front of me and starts to run away!! I spray him again--but he resists. Finally, in a moment of complete desperation, I pounce, slamming my flip-flop onto his ugly, feathery existence. I lift my foot...he's dead. A few dozen of his legs are stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Without screaming or fainting, I wipe the mess off my shoe and the other mess of the floor (including the Raid), toss it into the toilet, and flush.

I killed a bug today. A big ugly bug. All by myself.