Yesterday my coworker arrived at work bright and early (waaaaaay before me – i hate morning people) and unlocked our office door. As she opened it to turn on the lights and off the alarm (it doesn’t work the other way! i’ve tried!) a large bug raced out from the dark office into the light of the hallway.
And when i say “large”, i mean monstrous. Like a beetle on steroids.
Or, Donald Trump’s ego.
Here, look for yourself.
Now, it’s cooperating nicely for the photo because it’s dead. Like dead, dead. Not the un-dead. It’s not about to get up and eat anyone’s brains.
My coworker, who shall now be forever known as She-Who-Braved-the-Bug, had seen it run out, screamed, and the University cop who just HAPPENED to be walking our hall, calmly obliged her by stepping on it. (We love our police force!!)
However, it seems that saving damsels in distress from monstrous insects is within the University’s PD job description, but disposing of said threats to life and liberty is not. So there it lay, squished and oozy, when i rolled in at the still-god-awful-early time of 8:55am.
“Check out the roach!! It came from our OFFICE!! It’s HUGE!” my coworker met me in the doorway.
“Roach?” i say…because i have never actually SEEN a cockroach. i’ve heard stories. To my roach-virgin Oregon ears, the stories made them sound like they range anywhere from 1/8 inch to 6 feet long, they are absolutely invincible and New York is covered with them.
“Where?” i freeze and start frantically looking at the walls, the floor, the street outside the window. Like i might spot some sort of gigantic King Kong Cockroach climbing up the side of our building. i think i hear helicopters.
“Right THERE!!” my frantic friend points to the hallway and i turn and look back from whence i came.
Holy big bugs Batman!! CRAP that’s a big ugly bug. But…it’s…
“It’s dead?” i try not to notice the panic in my voice.
“YES! A cop killed it!”
Well, now i have images of our esteemed armed forces, in full riot gear with plexiglass sheilds and kevlar jackets storming the hall from both ends, running down the renegade roach and using their steel-toed Redwings to kill that sucker dead.
“Are you going to…..pick it up?” i stammer, staring at the too-big-to-be-a-bug bug, and find myself transfixed, unable to look away. Oh please. Please, please, please be dead. Don’t move! Not even one spindly leg.
i might die.
“oh GOD no!” my friend shrieks. “Ewwwwwwuuuggggghhhhhh!” and she went back into the office.
Well, i certainly wasn’t about to touch the mutant monster roach. Let it lie there. It’s …what…9:00? Still the ass-crack of dawn. (i STILL hate you Daylight Savings Time) Somebody is bound to see it later and pick it up.
Right? Let’s just name it Bob and leave it.
Wrong. i roll out of there around 5:00pm and the damn devil-bug Bob is still there in the same place we left it. Well. These halls are cleaned every night. The janitors will save us from having to see this again in the morn. Surely it will be gone.
But, no. As you can see, the janitors just swept it closer to the wall and out of the way. And now, my coworker and i are subjected to just watching the giant, oozy, squished roach slowly decompose. Or turn into a zombie. A bug zombie.
And that’s when i imagine Bob BuZombie gathering his spindly creepy legs underneath him, slowly rising up to stand, rolling his head and cracking his neck (do roaches have a neck?) and slowly march down the hall looking for brains. BuZombies are effed up!!
Now i dunno if i am relieved everytime i walk through that door and see Bob the BuZombie lying there, busy slowly drying out and shrivelling up and NOT turning into a bug zombie or if i wish he were gone one day, finally swept up and disposed of by our beloved but perpetually disgruntled janitorial staff.
And who can blame them, really? When they have to clean up after pigs who won’t even pick up their own dead roaches??
(BIG shout out to feraliminal, artist extraordinaire for the great roach clipart! Get more of their art here.