7.25.2003 El Mongo Cucaracha
Fair warning - the harming of animals or insects may upset some people. If you are one of these people, you may wish to check back next week for something different, otherwise, read on.
In the spirit of my manhood, the need to provide food and protection for my family - you can imagine these are probably instinctual traits for me (ahem). Be it if we lived in the Prehistoric age, I would have long hair, carry a club, and go hunt for food possibly on a daily basis - it's all in the freshness (that's what they say anyway). The present is no different. Hunting for food on a daily basis? Well, they have restaurants and grocery stores that help simplify this. Protecting my family? That's always dealt with on a per incident basis.
And we had one recently.
It all started a couple of days ago while I was sitting there on the can, with nothing on but my tighty-whities rolled down to my ankles and a pair of slippers (just play along, ok?). The time came to finish things up. I knew this, for I've been thumbing through a magazine for the last 10 or so minutes while my butt was starting to feel numb. Anyhow, as I was cleaning up, something caught my eye from the upper right corner of the room. I glanced over to see this smudge of a thing that leisurely clung against the wall was none other than this huge mongo size cockroach, or water bug (I don't know the difference) - and I mean, this thing was huge. It wasn't the type that festers some tenement halls in New York City. This thing was the Gigantor of cockroaches. It must've been about 4 inches long (not counting the antennas) and thick, like it had been working out. And of course, it was not scared of me. Well, apparently, it must've somehow used its sixth sense from its 3-inch antennas to sense fear radiating from me, this mammal with a numb butt.
Now, our apartment is pretty much pest free, thanks to our perfectionist landlord, and I haven't seen one of these critters myself in many, many years, let alone one that was so huge. I hastily cleaned up and nearly ran out of the room when the thought occurred to me that he was content, not going anywhere, and pretty much now, the king of the bathroom. And the next time that Elizabeth was to visit here, she'd likely panic and freak. Errr... I knew I just had to do something.
The thought occurred to me to take off my slipper and just give it a good smack. But, one of two things would happen if I tried this. Seeing how he appears to be the nearly the size of my slipper, the strike may just daze him at best, therefore angering him into unpredictable behavior, or he may just take the damn slipper from me and swing back - a toss up.
Pacing back and forth, I tried to think of my alternatives. I needed a plan. A good one. He, fully aware of my presence, just leisurely clung there. He even glanced over a few times, flicked an antenna and motioned, "What the hell you lookin at?" (Well, it seemed like he did). Then, came the sudden miraculous thought - I raced to the kitchen, reached under the sink cabinet, and brought out the recently purchased can of Raid. Umm ... No. Raid-substitute. I purchased this a couple of months ago for situations such as these.
I recall standing in the aisle of Rite Aid comparing the can of Raid to this other can of Raid-substitute thinking to myself, there's really no difference - even the cans were the same color and the loqo was just as fancy. And look here; this can of Raid-substitute is actually a whole 10 cents cheaper.
I raced back to the bathroom and he was still just clinging there, at the same spot, leisurely hanging on the wall. I shook the can, held it about one foot from el mongo cucaracha, clenched for the recoil, and applied pressure against the fatal nozzle. Expecting this lethal ray gun like jet stream of poison biological liquid acid, I was slighty disappointed. What came out of the can of Raid-substitute instead was this light puff of airy love mist. I wondered if it was lemon scented. I looked at the can. I looked at el mongo cucaracha. He looked back at me. And then went back to leisurely clinging on the wall.
I sprayed him again and again. About the twentieth time, he started to run slightly, and made some jolting motions, which led me to believe the spray was finally working. I stepped back a couple of feet. El mongo cucaracha looked sort of pissed - I didn't want to take any chances. For a second he looked as if he was going to fall off the wall. I figured this was only natural, but what happened next was the wildest thing that I have only read about, heard stories of, but never witnessed with my own two eyes. The folds of his back opened up to reveal themselves as wings. Yeah, wings. And he flew over part of the room to hide behind the shower curtain. Yeah, he flapped his wings and just took flight.
Wonderful - I didn't get a chance to actually measure him, but I imagine him with full wingspan to be comparable to about the size of a car. Anyhow, wonderful - we have this huge mongo cockroach water bug thing that has a sixth sense with a light dusting of lemon scented Raid-substitute flying about in our bathroom.
It was about this time when Elizabeth approached asking what was happening and of course, she needed to use the bathroom. I stood there somewhat speechless in my underwear and slippers holding onto this stupid can of lemon-scented weapon of mass destruction. I pointed toward the shower curtain and just grunted. I looked at Elizabeth. She just looked back at me. El mongo cucaracha was probably feeling somewhat territorial, for he crawled out from atop the shower curtain and suddenly started flying towards us. It still must've been somewhat dizzy from all the spraying and detoured himself to a nearby wall. Elizabeth froze and was caught in a state of shock. My instinctual manhood skills kicked in high gear. Hiding Elizabeth behind me, we retreated out of the bathroom one step at a time with an open GI Joe Kung Fu grip in one hand and lemon scented Raid-substitute in the other.
Backwards, step by step, we inched across the hall, to the bedroom where we stepped inside and closed the door. We huddled and agreed that she was going to stay in the bedroom until it was all clear. I was to venture forth and fight the good fight. If I was not to return in 15 minutes, she was instructed to go get help. The Will was located in the top left bedroom drawer - the life insurance policy, in the second drawer.
I took a deep breath, cracked open the door and spotted our little friend. El mongo cucaracha was now resting on the front of the bathroom door ready for battle. He spotted me and once again, took flight ? right towards me - aggressive little one. Fortunately, I was ready with the lemon scented Raid-substitute. Reflexively, I sprayed and must?ve caught him in the eye. He changed his direction, hooking towards the left and headed down the stairs.
The hunt was on.
I chased him into the living room, and then into the kitchen, and finally out to the foyer. I sprayed and sprayed. He finally landed on the top step in an exhausted state. It didn't appear that he actually ailing from the spray, but rather, just slightly stunned and mostly just weighed down by moisture and laid on his back in a drenched like fashion. I stood over him continually spraying.
After a while, it occurred to me to give him some alone time. I figured it was only human to do so. I had to report back to Elizabeth to inform her that I was safe, and that the battle would be over soon. It was also a good time to get fully dressed. Fighting el mongo cucaracha in nothing but tighty-whities and slippers is just bad karma.
When I returned, I found that he appeared to have finally fallen. He laid there still with his size 20 feet pointing into the air. I sprayed again just to be safe, and I couldn't believe it, but he started moving again. He slowed down though and appeared to be very sedated. Maybe he thought it was time for a nap. I ran to the kitchen to find a paper bag and some newspapers. Donning a pair of rubber gloves and using newspapers, I was able to maneuver him into the bag. I then ran el mongo cucaracha outside to the curb.
Done. I win.
Moral of the story - never ever buy lemon scented Raid-substitute from Rite Aid. The 10-cent savings just isn't worth it.