August 5, 2004

I really don’t want….

Emily told me today that she wanted me to accompany her back to her hometown this weekend.

Aww man, I really don’t want to go back to Emily’s hometown. The place sucks. Each time I’m there, I will be basically turned into some dipshit mannequin that just sits around doing nothing other than watch the stupid TV. The place’s boring, hot and full of kids. It’s worst than having to be sent to a prison full of gay lepers.

The last time I was there, I was awaken by a stray roach in the middle of the night. Was sleeping soundly on the wooden floor when suddenly, I felt some itch behind at my back. My T-shirt’s kinda rolled up revealing my tits from extreme bad sleeping habit – so, I thought that the itch might have been caused by mosquitoes. With a fast reflex, I smacked at the itch spot, fully expecting a bloody mosquito eviscerated under my palm.

But no… it was something bigger. Something with a moisty exoskeleton. Something that has hairy legs. And something the thing fucking ranked like motherfucking roach. Right, it was a cockroach, right in my hand. I immediately jumped up from my sleep and squealed like a pig that has just been scalded at it’s balls. My squealing was loud enough to wake Emily. Almost immediately, I fled out from the room dragging Emily along and scurried downstairs into the bathroom.

Emily kept asking me what was wrong but I was too disoriented (still very blur from the sudden wake) to even respond. I quickly went under the shower (still dragging Emily along) and proceeded flush lots of water onto my head. I then yelled “Get the fucking shampoo ! Pour ! Pour !” while pointing on my head. I squatted down and Emily proceeded to emergency wash my hair frenziedly without stopping.

I then calmed down, and let her wash my hair, repeated again and again, until I finally satisfied. While I was toweling my hair dry, Emily asked me again

“What happened ?”
“There was a cockroach. It was crawling on me when I was sleeping” [trembled with goosebumps]
“Then why do you need to wash your hair ?”
“I think it crawled up my hair… but I wasn’t sure. It smelled so bad… I didn’t know where the smell came from…” [proceeded to smell hand]

I almost barfed. Again, I ran to a nearby sink and washed my hand repeatedly with a dish washer detergent. I swear I emptied almost half the content just to rid of the cockroach smell. The bitter and shocking experience still haunts me today. That night, I slept with the lights on… and woke every 20 minutes or so to look around for cockroaches. Goddamn.

So, I can’t blame myself for not wanting to go back to Emily’s hometown. The roach incident was just another addition to the list of reasons why I shouldn’t and wouldn’t want to go there. I do not meant any disrespect to my family in-laws but… let’s just say… I’m a very sick individual and I should be staying at home instead. Whatever.

P/S: I have a phobia against cockroach. If you smell like one… you better stay the fuck away from me and my blog.

michaelooi  | experiences  | 

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