I don't like it.
I am not the type of person that handles bugs well, and quite frankly, if I am ever faced with unwanted guests of the four-legged, rodent variety, it will flat-out kill me. Yet, I have now encountered not one, but two, horrible intruders - and (spoiler alert) - I'm not the one that ended up in my trash, wadded in layers of paper towel. Here is the story of my first terrifying - yet triumphant - battles against uninvited company.
#1). So, like any cool twenty-something living downtown, I started my Friday night by watching The Notebook alone. I had wandered towards my kitchen to polish off a bottle of embarrassingly cheap Chardonnay when I saw it - The Lobster Bug.
In reality, I think you would call my nemesis a centipede, but everything about him reminded me of a tiny, fear-inducing lobster. After snapping a picture for posterity, I jogged, in a panic, back to my family room, where I called my dad from a defensive position atop our Home Goods ottoman. Being that my dad was more social and popular than I, he could only spare a few seconds from the party he was attending to offer sympathy and two words of advice: "kill it."
I knew he was right - there was no way I could enjoy the cinematic masterpiece that is The Notebook (let alone sleep later that night) knowing that The Lobster Bug was roaming free in my apartment. I dragged myself back towards my assassination target when I realized he had escaped. Or had he?
When I entered my kitchen, I saw that the bug had already made it across the massive expanse of linoleum and was on the move again - with, I might add, the terrifying speed of a small puma. I had to act fast - I grabbed a wedge (the shoe that would put the most barrier between me and the actual crunch) and did the dirty deed. Completely traumatized by my first Chicago-bug-murder, I left the dead thing under my shoe - in the middle of the kitchen - waiting to wipe him up the following day. I finished off the last of my (now much-deserved wine)and abandoned Allie/Noah for a night on the town.
#2). Once again, I found myself engaging in socially unacceptable behavior - watching Percy Jackson with my younger sister on a Saturday night. And yes, cheap Chardonnay was involved for a second time.
During a climatic battle scene between the teenage demi-gods, I saw the blurred movement of something racing from my fireplace to my couch. Based on its speed (comparable to that of a bronze-medal Olympic runner), I at first thought it was a mouse and nearly died. However, I quickly realized that it was another Lobster Bug. My sister - terrified of insects - stood on my couch and tried not to break into tears while I, now a seasoned pro, stalked it across my apartment to an eventual death under my living room table.
My elderly landlord Wayne dealt with this epidemic by purchasing roach-spray at the hardware store and personally coating our baseboards. Has it worked? Too soon to tell.
Stay tuned for what is hopefully a blissful, bug-less update.
