10.19.07

cockroach |ˈkäkˌrō ch | noun a beetlelike insect with long antennae and legs, feeding by scavenging. Several tropical species have become established worldwide as pests in homes and food service establishments.
• Suborder Blattodea, order Dictyoptera: many genera and species, including the oriental cockroach ( Blatta orientalis) and the American cockroach ( Periplaneta americana); some, esp. in the genus Ectobius, are small temperate species that live outdoors.ORIGIN early 17th cent.(as cacaroch): from Spanish cucaracha. The spelling change was due to association with cock 1 and roach 2 .

Okay, so we have this neighbor who lives above us. I would guess she is late forties, early fifties. Upon our first encounter she seemed rather nice, yet a bit jaded and nervous. Her voice crinkles words and her eyes wince a bit from contact. She is attractive, Canadian, and bizarre. When I say bizarre I mean she clearly has a past that has made her this way. Perhaps kinky and reckless and involving people that I’ve probably seen in the news. Let’s call her Ms.C.

Last night Andy decided to make dinner, lemon chicken with couscous and brussel sprouts. Now, this seems easy but I must admit that at the moment we only have two burners that we could take with anywhere and plug in. I was in the bedroom trying to exercise Myla because our vet said that she needs some cardio. She actually wrote on her health certificate, “Mildly Obese.” I heard Andy talking to Ms.C in the hallway before closing the front door and cautiously peering into the bedroom.

“Hey, so I invited Ms.C to dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s alright I guess,” I said picking the cat up and forcing her to move her body forward.”

“Well, she appeared to be drunk so maybe she’ll just pass out or forget all together,” he retorted reaching for the laser pointer.

I stopped for a minute lowering my voice like a gossiping teenager, “Ms.C was D R U N K?”

Andy swirled the red dot around the floor but the cat simply laid there and waited until it got close enough swipe at. “I don’t know. She smelled like stale beer and was staggering a bit.”

“Sweet,” I said pushing the cat around the floor with my foot. “Maybe we’ll get some dirt.”

About an hour had past and the smell of garlic and lemon was now spilling into the bedroom where I was attempting to repair my DVD burner which was beyond repair. I heard a tapping on the front door followed by the clanging of glass. I let Ms.C in and escorted her to the kitchen where she presented a bottle of vino blanco (white wine) and a smaller bottle containing an amber colored liquor and a dead worm.

“Ms.C’s ready to get ripped,” I thought to myself as I placed the bottles on the counter.

We all made some small talk about the neighborhood, difficulties with the property manager and Hank, the alpha-male rooster who chooses to begin his crowing at about 6am right below our window. There were some light laughter followed by some awkward pauses, followed by shots of the mescal to make the pauses less awkward. These shots included everyone but me, meaning Andy and Ms.C.

By the time dinner was served Ms.C was swaying, Andy was amused and I was mildly irritated.

“I usted be a food crrritic,” piped Ms.C following up with a hiccup. This was the third time she told us of her cuisine expertise “This is reeely good.”

Andy was relieved because somehow during the course of the night he developed concern that the food might not meet the standard of Ms.C. At this point we could have fed her Meow Mix burritos and she would not have known the difference. She did begin dusting off some skeletons and dropping them on the table. She went on to explain that she was here living off the monthly money she got out of her wealthy 2nd husband and that she was rooming with her 1st husband up until the move. She shared the fact that her daughter said she was not coming to visit because she was in Asia with her “might as well be husband” and that she was concerned for her mother. “Shocker.” The less liquor in the bottles the more room there was left in the closet.

“God, it is so hot,” she exclaimed frantically fanning her braless chest. “Ya knooow. They said it woood be nise and cool because we lived neeer tha river. Fuck that. It’s a creek and it’s filled with trash.”

She had a point.

Ms.C grabbed the near empty bottle of tequilla and tried focusing her wandering left eye on Andy. “Okay. Yuv gotta eat the worm. I cannt eat the wurm. THe last time I ate the worm I was the worm. I was the worrrm all over and my frenndz have to carry me.”

It did not take much convincing. The faster he ate the worm the faster she could get the hell upstairs. He opened his throat and down it went. And then we sat. Waiting. Staring. Forcing smiles of contentment. “Letz listen to this. Weee didn’t even lisn to it.”

“We did Ms.C. We already went through this CD twice. It was good,” I said assuming she’s get it. “I am really tired. It’s time for me to go to bed. But, next time you come over we can lis. . .”

“The nusct time you cuum oveeer,” she totally cut me off AND mimicked me in a condescending drunk high-pitched voice. “Yur grlfriened is nawt looking happpy. Letzz go to the festiva Andy cuz you ate the weerrrm,” she said trying to whisper only loud enough so I heard every word.   Andy declined the offer.

“I used to be a grooooopie ya know.”

Andy tried hard not to laugh. “You are only a groupie if you sleep with the band.”

Ms.C thought for a moment. “I WAS a grooopie. I meeen I didn’t sleep with all of em but I did, yeah i was a groopie.” And with that she miraculously cradled her wine bottle in her arm and stumbled towards the door. We said our goodnights and locked the door behind her. We were in bed all of a minute before we heard the crash of several objects. Glass, a shoe and a human. Andy checked on her and quickly came back to bed.

I imagine it was around 3am when awoke. It was supposed to be just awake enough to readjust my position and fall back asleep. I turned onto my left side and curled my right leg into Andy’s torso knee nook. I felt a light breeze come through the window that seemed move my hair, lightly tickling my neck. The tickle then moved down towards my throat. That was not the wind nor my hair. I reached my hand up to where my adam’s apple would be, if I had a penis, only to graze the back of a seemingly large arthropod. In other words, “A REALLY BIG COCKROACH!”

“AhhhhhhhhhhEWWWWWW!!!” I catapulted off the springs of the mattress, over Andy’s body and into the chair on the other side of the room. I shook the now imaginary family of bugs off of my clothing.

Andy, now experiencing an adrenalin high, was on his feet as well. “What, What?” He spotted the large bug, scurrying to get away. He grabbed the closest sandal and slammed it into the bug like the man that he is, defending his woman.

After inspecting the sheets and closest wall for any of his friends, we returned to the bed. I began to giggle. Again, “Shocker.” We finally fell back to sleep.

It had to have been around 7am when the first one exploded. Shortly after 3 more. The loudest of all the firecrackers. The ones that sound like cannons? Yeah those. Four of them. Loud and painful and right outside our window. They had been going off occasionally during the day to celebrate Fiesta, but this was the first wake-up call. The cats were wigging, scrambling to seek shelter from the bombs. Dogs were howling which, of course, got Hank all fired up. That encouraged the rest of the damn roosters to join him. And more cannons.

I covered my head with the pillow and turned my face towards Andy, “Well, this has got to be good for Ms.C’s headache.”

 

 

Andy took these pics “incognito” of me and Ms.C