Sunday, September 20, 2009
Photos by Julia Aron
My first or second night here, I met La Cucaracha. He was the biggest one I’d ever seen and…..he had wings. Naturally, I was distressed about this and completely petrified by the notion of killing him with my flip-flop. The idea of the crunch alone sends my mind racing into a frenzy with a fantasy of paying the $150 to change my flight and getting back to New York as soon as possible.
I mention this at dinner one night with some friends who live at the Condo.
“I had a roach sighting last night.”
“Ahhhhh…” they whine with empathy.
Robin, Jamie’s husband says matter-of-factly, “You gotta take care of that and get that fucker.”
I don’t know him that well or else I would’ve responded, “Uh…DUH! You’re telling me. I’m afraid to sleep!”
Instead, I share my fears of the crunch and his flying capabilities.
“Ohhhh…I hate the ones that fly.” Jamie pipes in. “You gotta just stomp on it. They’re everywhere here and ya just get used to doing it.”
“Just get yourself some spray and you’ll be fine.” Robin reassures.
On a mission, I buy some spray the very next day. I feel sheepish as I place the can on the counter for purchase as if I’m the only one in Mexico with a roach problem. $4 later, I am armed and ready to go.
That night, I return home, announcing to the roach, “Okay, brotha. I am here. This can go two ways. You leave me alone and you live. You don’t and you’re dead.”
I say this every night, but now that I have ammunition, I believe I sound more confident. He doesn’t come out that night. In the morning, I feel victorious and relieved. Maybe I won’t have to kill him after all. Maybe he got the message and has moved onto someone else’s casa.