I was tidying up my bedroom. Putting dirty clothes in the hamper, throwing away obsolete pages of notes and school handouts, taking out my trash, etc.
Then I came across a little mess of papers and miscellaneous crap that had accumulated under my computer desk. I gathered the papers up, no problem. I reached for a random collapsable koozie that was chilling under there with the papers, and to my complete and utter horror....
A huge, disgusting ROACH flies out of the koozie, making contact with my hand (VOMIT) before crawling all over my carpet at warp speed.
Excuse my French, family members, but WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Since when did koozies become hideouts of choice for flying outdoor roach invaders? And what did I do to piss off the Invertebrate Gods so badly to deserve these constant encounters?
I ran, screaming, from my room to the hall bathroom, where my roommate and I keep our industrial strength roach poison (seriously). When I returned to my bedroom door, I had lost the effing roach. Those little bastards are FAST.
I started crying the tears of hysteria I knew would inevitably come, because apparently I'm 5 years old. I just stood out in my hallway with the poison squirter in my pathetic (and now contaminated) hand, staring into my bedroom. I was willing Koozie Roach to show himself, because the only thing worse than a huge roach violating your bedroom, is a huge LOST ROACH violating your bedroom, doing God knows what once you go to sleep and spreading its asthma allergens all up in your junk.
I kept vigilante-style watch on my bedroom from the hallway for at least a solid 30 minutes, and then, like a shining beacon of hope, my roommate came home on her lunch break.
As soon as she opened the door downstairs, I yelled down in an urgent voice that I had an emergency upstairs in my bedroom, and, bless her heart, she didn't even get mad at me when that "emergency" turned out to be Koozie Roach.
She marched right into my bedroom, found Koozie Roach, and chased him around my carpet with a shoe until she finally got him with a fatal blow, right before he would have escaped to under-the-bed-roach-haven.
Koozie Roach is still chillin where he met his end, too, because even after she smashed him, I went to TOWN on his carcass with poison, and I didn't want to touch him (at all), but especially not when he was drenched in Bayer Advanced Home Pest Killer.
Meet Koozie Roach. I hope he likes Glamour, because that's the final resting place for a few of his appendages.
And I guess I have the little succubus to thank for a newfound irrational paranoia of koozies and little piles of clutter around my room.
Roaches can go to hell.
