Tuesday, September 30, 2008

the living room incident

I'm feeling a bit traumatized. I'm cold, I feel a little itchy and I'm traumatized. I have an irrational fear of bugs. I feel scratchy just thinking about this. A few weeks ago I started jumping up and down in the living room yelling and scaring the hell out of D. I was rendered temporarily speechless, unable to make any sound other than "eee!!! aaahhh!!!" until I was finally able to muster "a bug, a roach, eew, a bug, get up, kill it! eeee!!!" My poor husband. Honestly. He was sitting on the couch and I was walking from the kitchen to the living room when I saw the disgusting culprit coming from under the couch. It was one of the huge mama roaches. My super says they are water bugs. He tried to kill it but the filthy thing got away, made it's way back under the couch and into the wall. Over the summer I left a pair of shoes by the door to our terrace and when I came inside I saw one inside the shoe. I almost passed out. After the living room incident D confessed that he had seen one in the bathroom a few weeks before but did not tell me about it so I wouldn't freak out. Why would he think I would freak out?! The next day I nuked our apartment.

I've lived in New York City for six years - one year in Brooklyn, two years in Queens and three years in Manhattan. I love living in the city. I love that you can get anywhere in less than 10 minutes by hailing a cab. I love that you can get everything from milk to Chinese food to movies to ice cream at all hours. I love the lull of the sound of the cars racing down the street outside my window. I love that you are always somewhere with something to do. I love it all. But, there are some things that I hate about this city. Hate is indeed a strong word but I would say that the one thing that I really hate about this city, or any city, are the bugs.

We have never, ever had a bug problem. We're clean. We don't leave food out. I clean inside my oven every week even though it's used primarily for storage, I clean under the bed all the time, I clean and clean and clean even though I have a cleaning lady! Unfortunately, as we all know, in New York, you can be Lady Macbeth but if your neighbors are dirty or don't like to let the exterminator in, you're screwed.

Last night after a lovely family dinner to celebrate the Jewish new year we got back home and headed to the couch to detox after all the brisket and Pinot Noir. D fell asleep and I caught up on the DVRed shows from last week. I was in food coma heaven. At around 2am he went to the bedroom and then came the "oh, shit." Another freaking water bug, roach thing. I freaked out again. D was half asleep and I was screaming like a lunatic. I ran to the kitchen to grab the Ortho spray that I bought after the living room incident and ran back to the bedroom (ps-our apartment is 850 square feet so it's not like I was running from the east wing to the west wing) and started to spray into the closet, the thing ran under the bed, I kept spraying and I think my heart actually skipped a beat. I didn't find it. It's probably decomposing under my bed next to the Target storage things that have my winter sweaters.

I can deal with this in the living room, in the bathroom, in the kitchen...but the bedroom. Hell no. I called the super but he insists that they are water bugs and not roaches and no one else is complaining about them.

Sometimes I don't love New York.

Here's a shot of New York water...I bet things even more disgusting than water bugs live in there. Alligators maybe...according to urban legend. This is the East River at the base of the Manhattan Bridge...

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