Intruder Alert

Intruders always target women that are home alone. They’re vulnerable, easier to scare, and if they don’t keep their wits about them – helpless.

I was home alone last night, relaxing and eating vanilla chocolate ice cream in my underwear. Don’t judge – it’s too dadgum hot here to wear clothes all the time. I flipped on the fan switch in the living room and plopped down on the couch to read a book. I smirked as I looked at the dishes in the sink that I was ignoring for the time being and relished in the fact that the house was quiet, dark, and I had it all to myself. My peaceful evening was drawing to a close, however, when I suddenly heard a peculiar noise and realized I wasn’t alone. My eyes darted to the other side of the room as the intruder slid under the broken window screen and fluttered his wings as he landed on the wall. Cue scary intruder music and blood curdling woman scream.

Now.

I hate cockroaches. I loathe them. If someone runs under the International Cockroach Holocaust Platform next presidential campaign, I’m voting for that guy. I can’t imagine why God created those poop-eating, garbage rummaging, atomic bomb surviving monsters.

Thought #1 I need to get out of here! I’ll just run out the door, find Blair on campus, and make him take care of it.

Thought #2 But if I leave, maybe the roach will hide somewhere and make babies under my sink. No! I have to take care of this myself.

Thought #3 I don’t know what to do, but I need to get some clothes on. I can’t fight this intruder in my undies.

I ran to the bedroom and draped some mismatched clothes over my body for protection against the assailant. I snatched the black can of roach killer in the bathroom and made my way to the battle field. The monster was still clinging to the wall when I walked in the living room. I took a few breaths and started my own little personal pep rally out-loud.

"You're bigger than him, Ashley."
"He can't hurt you."
"You're a human, Ashley."
"He eats poop."
"You can do this."

With that I stood ten feet back from the wall where the roach was camped, squinted my eyes, and pushed the trigger. And nothing - not even a flinch from the creature... Damn. Not close enough. I crept a little closer to the wall and sprayed again. With poison all over his back, he flew off the wall and landed on the floor in front of me! With Olympic speed I jumped with both feet and landed on the couch and out of his reach. The roach then started running all over underneath chairs and couches in a spastic frenzy. I hopscotched on top of the furniture, spraying underneath each object like a mad woman. It makes me giggle now to think of all of the strange things I was shouting


"You can't get away from me!!" and "I'm gonna kill you, roach!!"

Good grief I hope my neighbors didn't hear me in my psychotic rage.

After I stopped coughing from the fumes that were suffocating the air out of the room, I found the intruder lying on his back underneath a chair. I squealed, laughed a little, and then with one final surge of murderous anger I gritted my teeth and stepped on him. I twisted my foot to the left and the right and listened to him die. I washed my hands, my arms, my face and my shoes. Opened my laptop and started looking for a plane ticket home. I can't deal with this.


Adios muchachos!