a happy new york story

something happened yesterday that, before it happened, existed only in my nightmares. no, dear readers, i wasn't hate-crimed on the street; no one broke into my apartment or pulled a gun on me on the subway. what happened wasn't, i suppose, a direct threat to my well-being. that's not exactly true. my emotional well-being has taken a direct hit.

so i'm sitting in my living room yesterday finishing torch song trilogy (as a side-note: if you haven't seen this movie yet, go rent it. it's old, it's by harvey fierstein, and it's unbelievable.), getting all weepy and enjoying my cereal and coffee and having the house to myself on a sunday morning to get all weepy and enjoy my cereal and coffee. torch song ends, having hit a little too close to home when it comes to harvey's relationship with his overbearing mother, and i swirl my coffee around in its mug, then take a last gulp.

there's something in my mouth that feels like plastic; like a bit of candy bar wrapper. for a moment i think that i might as well just swallow it--when's the last time somebody died from eating a candy bar wrapper?--but i change my mind and spit the wrapper into my hand.

it is not a wrapper, however, dear readers.

it is a

COCKROACH.

A DEAD COCKROACH.

A DEAD COCKROACH THAT LOOKS LIKE THIS:
in my mouth. a dead cockroach in my mouth. i fling it onto the oriental rug and spring up off the sofa. i don't scream, i don't cry. i'm just dumbfounded. i shakily go to the bathroom and swish a full mouthful of mouthwash, way more than the bottle tells me i should be using. i go back to the coffee mug, go back to the dead roach on the rug. in my mug is another dead cockroach. they'd been having, i don't know, cockroach synchronized swimming or something. while i drank my coffee.

and no one is home. i'm alone in my house with my two dead cockroaches, one of whose texture i can still remember in my mouth. i call hilary, her phone is off. i call amanda, who's on the train. i call terry, who's in bed with his new boyfriend.

this is it, readers. we have done everything in our power to get rid of these roaches: we have diligently cleaned; rid the house of any paper laying around; gotten traps. the next step is the roach gel. oh, and calling my landlord to tell him that he needs to pay for an exterminator.

because i drank a roach yesterday morning.