Bugs!

Bugs! I'm not particularly fond of them, but they do seem to enjoy my company quite a bit. About two weeks ago, I started to get something of an infestation of them in my apartment, so much so that I've had to keep each room supplied with a small pile of napkins, or "murder weapons" as most bugs refer to them. They've mainly been the harmless unintelligent kind that hangs around lightbulbs, but about a week ago, I discovered one in my bathroom that was a cut above the rest. It was about the size of my fist (a slight exaggeration) and it was so damned intelligent that when i came at it with my shoe, it recognized the potential threat and darted out of the way - the thing eluded me and hid behind the toilet out of my range of vision. Armed with a shoe, I waited for a good half hour for the thing to emerge, but it was clearly full aware of my intentions and stayed out of my sight. I quarantined off the room by stuffing a towel in the gap under the bathroom door (mind you, this is the size of bug that just closing the door would prevent it from exiting a room), and stuffed another towel under my bedroom door, just in case it broke through my first line of defense. I slept rather uneasily that night, jumping every time a hair on my leg moved, but luckily i discovered the next morning that the thing had not eaten my towels and was presumably still in the bathroom. I spent a considerable amount of time hunting for it over the next few days, but to no avail.

I've developed a sort of Moby Dick-Captain Ahab relationship with the thing. I gained a certain respect for it, as I believe it has for me. We disagree on a number of issues and lead very different life styles, but I think we have a sort of mutual understanding with each other. The thing is so large and intelligent that I'm half expecting to come out of my bathroom one of these days and ask me for a beer. I believe that it could develop into a very strong friendship, were it only not a bug.

I figure that there are three possibilities as to its current whereabouts. The first is that it died contently behind my toilet, fulfilled in its life's mission of scaring the shit out of me. The second it that it crawled back through the ventilation system from whence it probably came. The third possibility, of course, is that it still waits behind my toilet, waiting to catch me unaware.

This should not, by the way, dissuade anyone from entering my apartment. Just be prepared to carry a shoe with you when you go to the bathroom.


-Matthew