When I first moved here, I saw a Palmetto bug (as you’ll remember if you watched this video) and nearly had a stroke and died. When I didn’t die, I quickly called my dad in tears and stated that I needed to move home immediately. He, from the New York metro area, informed me that “New York invented roaches” and to woman up. I made my way through the day and the week in a very paranoid fashion, waiting for another insect to emerge, and now nine months later I’m still here.
I absolutely love life in Charlotte. I love everything about it. Except for the damn roaches. Ever since I spotted that first one, I’ve always kind of lived in fear. At night I wait for one to make an appearance, and when I’m in the shower I always check the bottles for a visitor. So far, so good.
Until tonight. Of course.
I had gotten off a plane from Syracuse, and the flight was a disaster. We were supposed to land at 8:30 and I wasn’t in the airport until 10 pm. We flew through lightning storms and almost had to get rerouted to Virginia. I had to pee SO BADLYand then we were stuck on the Tarmac for no reason as it poured and poured. I finally got home, exhausted and relieved to be back. It was still pouring. As I headed to the kitchen to grab a snack, I thought to myself, “God, if I see a roach tonight I’m going to die.”
Famous last words.
Flash forward to three minutes later and I’m sitting eating a bagel and catch a flash out of the corner of my eye. That’s always how it starts. Enter, HUGE ASS ROACH. I had envisioned this moment going down many times since I first moved to Charlotte and spotted that first Palmetto on one of my first days. Except now my roommate is gone at her boyfriend’s and I’m alone. No one to assist. I can call a friend, but by the time they get there the roach is gone and I have to go to sleep wondering if it’s going to crawl into my mouth. Nope. Immediate action required.
I think I had an out of body experience, because I quickly and calmly got up from my chair, said the F word roughly 307 times, and headed into my room to grab my five-pound special issue of Vogue featuring Jennifer Lawrence on the cover. I’d been saving it just for a situation like this. I wish I was kidding. I continued to whisper profanity under my breath and breathe heavily as I waited for the roach to move out from under the chair leg. When it did, BAM! Smash.
Now that that part was done, the dirty work came in. Time to dispose of the corpse. I felt like Walter White or Tony Soprano trying to prepare for this job. I put on a carefully planned outfit for the task, as you can see in this video. The more naked you are the scarier the situation is, so I needed yellow rubber gloves, rubber rain boots, and a hooded sweatshirt. You can imagine my surprise when I flipped over the Jennifer Lawrence Vogue and found that nasty demon STILL ALIVE. I had to go through the whole ordeal again, with more smashing and swearing. This time I relied on Lauren Conrad’s issue of Allure, and also jumped on the magazine many times after I smashed it down on the ground. I let out an animalistic cry as I did this, and feel like that helped me to jump harder.
Once that was done and I knew I was definitely dealing with a roach body, a lot of deep breathing and stretching occurred before I could flip the magazine over once again. I was like Derek Jeter preparing for Game 6 of the World Series. No room for error. I had to play Britney Spears loudly and fill my mind only with thoughts of Ryan Gosling as I flipped the murder weapon over, and couldn’t let my mind wander to the legs and pieces of exoskeleton that would face me soon. I wished that I had someone else on my team to help me, but at that moment it was just me and Lauren Conrad and Jennifer Lawrence. When the magazine was flipped, finally, and I was able to see my own bad assery at work, this happened.
The roach murder was a two-hour production and I acted like a totally insane person. It’s now 1 a.m. and I can’t sleep, and am not sure that I ever will again. But I killed a huge roach. On my own. I didn’t cry or have to get a hotel room for the night. I don’t want to move home. I am a certified bad ass. It also proves that you don’t need a man or a roomie to save you. You save yourself and kill that nasty creature once and for all.
::drops the mic::