The Demise of the Horny Roaches

I arrive home late after another day of diving. I need to shower and eat quickly before going to a party that some other people from the dive shop are hosting. I go to use the toilet, and find two small roaches on the floor. Admittedly, my most hated activity at the moment is walking into a dark room and turning on a light--it almost always results in finding a roach scurrying away. My first thought for these roaches is 'run off into the cracks where I can't see you.' Then I remember the request from my roommates to spray any insect life found within the apartment because they take over so quickly. Feeling a little guilty, I grab the black can of aerosol death to bugs, and spray the roaches until they keel over.

Now it's time for a shower. I undress, take off my glasses, and step into the shower. I turn on the water to rinse quickly, and tilting my head back to get my hair wet, I see a dark spot up in the corner that seems different than usual. I consider the spot, and decide to turn off the shower, drip all over the bathroom, and grab my glasses. Upon further inspection (this time with eyesight), I let out a yelp. Two of the biggest roaches I've seen since Asia are mating in the top corner of my shower.

I quickly wrap myself in a towel, grab the can of death to bugs (and maybe humans), and spray the heck out of the roaches. They know they've been caught in the act, but are incapable of running away. They fall off the wall, scurry around the floor of the shower still attached to one another, and one finally dies. The live roach now has a dead roach attached to it, is freaking out because it's beginning to die but cannot get away, and crawls right into my nice pink shower puff. At this point I lose courage entirely, run out of my apartment dripping in a towel, and find my neighbours in the hallway. I ask if they are more brave than me and willing to help with a cockroach situation, and three of them troop into my little bathroom to check out the scene.

Once finally under control (ie. all signs of roach life are removed from my apartment), I timidly get back into the shower. I'm now late to meet a friend before heading to the party, so I give up on the notion of cooking myself supper, and grab a baleada on the way. All I can think the rest of the evening is that the roaches would have gotten off much better if they hadn't been so caught up having sex.