What Boys are Good For

    Fuck me!  
I made gingerbread cookies to take to the meeting tomorrow and I’d just pulled them out of the oven when I turned around to see an ENORMOUS COCKROACH on the floor next to Parrot’s cage.  The monster must have been larger than a quarter–maybe silver-dollar sized.  I’d never see one anywhere near that big in the apartment–or the building, for that matter (though there was a big dead one in the hallway last summer, which is a story in and of itself–but anyway).  It was disgusting!  ARGH I HATE most insects!  

 It seemed to be eating a piece of Parrot’s debris (don’t get the wrong idea–there isn’t much debris–I have a dust buster and vacuum around the cages constantly), so its back was so me.  It seemed to be unaware of my presence.  I have read many many books about the great military strategies of history, and so I knew immediately that I had to take advantage of the filthy cockroach’s state of distraction.  

I had to kill the ugly motherfucker.  But how?  Smashing him would be the obvious answer, but in order to do that, I would have to get close to him.   I wasn’t about to do that!  So I got out the bottle of bleach cleaner from under the kitchen sink and turned the nozzle to “stream” and squirted the roach with bleach from across the room.  He started to run around, but I kept spraying.  He was drenched, but somehow kept fleeing.  He ran over to the garbage can by the book-case and I was scared that he would run behind it.  I grabbed the dust buster, averted my eyes, and vacuumed him up.

      This presented me with a problem: he wasn’t dead yet, so if I stopped the vacuum mechanism, he could possibly CRAWL BACK OUT.  So I kept the dust buster on and vacuumed lots of the floor in the living room area, intentionally blurring my vision so that I didn’t see inside the dust buster chamber.  Gross!  Gross gross gross!

      What to do then?  The obvious answer was so empty the dust buster into the toilet or the garbage can, but that would require that I get too close to the insect, especially if he wasn’t dead.  I wanted to leave the vacuum outside of the door the of the apartment, but someone would steal it.  So I did the next rational thing and put it in a cardboard box behind the TV set.  

      It really made me wish that I had a boy around.  Boys can be very very useful.  Two of their great uses are opening jars and killing insects.  If I had a boyfriend, he would have killed the roach and I would not be going through this absurd theater.  How am I going to use the vacuum again?  Somehow, it must be emptied and hanged back on the charger.  Or I could just throw it out and buy a new one, but that seems like a silly thing to do just because I’m afraid to look at a roach for a few seconds.  I mean, a new dust buster costs almost $25 on Amazon and the only I have still has quite a bit of power left in it.  

      This is making me want to drink scotch really really badly.  But I have hardly any money and I don’t want to wreck my sobriety (God I hate that word) over a roach in a dust buster.  

        I looked around to see if I had any pills of any sort that could be helpful in my time of need, but all I have are my two “End of the World” emergency Valium in my jewelry box.  I can’t eat one of them; if I do, I’ll only have one left, and in the event of the world ending, one Valium will not be enough to get me properly stoned.  So, so much for that idea.  

       I can’t relax in the living room.  Roach!  Roach!  Roach!  

       What am I going to do about this?  Why isn’t there a boy here to kill the roach?  I guess I could call one over.  Never a man around when you need one!  I was working at my secret job all day today, and in the immortal words of Leonard Cohen, it was dead as heaven on a Saturday night.  I did’t turn a dime.  No dudes  to part with their hard-earned cash (slackers!), no dudes for roach disposal, and I haven’t gotten laid for two weeks, which is just so unacceptable (I guess that last is my fault, though. I could’ve arranged it if I’d made time to.  I’ve just been so busy trying to generate income…and the Surgeon has been such a jerk…well, it’s the weekend, maybe I’ll go out tomorrow).  

       Thank you, men, for killing insects, especially roaches and spiders in bathtubs.  This service you provide is absolutely invaluable.   

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