My apartment has cockroaches living in it. I’m from a Third World country and I’ve never lived with this many. It makes me feel like I’ve become such a dirty slob, like Joe in Joe’s Apartment. I watched that movie right before I moved to NYC; I should have seen this one coming.
I found a baby cockroach today in one of the drawers in the kitchen. I got a piece of paper towel, softly grabbed the roach with it. I wanted to put the baby roach outside my window, so it’s out of my face but close enough for it to run back and find its parents.
I feel like I’m the faceless human in one of those Pixar films. Think about it, the baby roach is like Nemo, got taken out from its home by this huge faceless force (me) and has to spend the next hour and a half finding its way back.
However, when I tried to open the screen window, it’s stuck. Then I think, “shit. What the fuck, I’m holding a fucking cockroach wrapped in a cheap 79 cents paper towel, that’s fucking disgusting. “. I closed my eyes tight and pressed my thumb and index fingers together, resulting in the excruciatingly painful death of the baby cockroach. I mean, seriously, imagine being squashed up to death by cheap paper towel.
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