It's official. The people at my apartment complex think I am nuts. THIS THING has been outside my door for three days now. It's HUGE. I mean like six inches - HUGE. And I have a real, highly imaginative and very large fear of bugs. Especially the kind that are six inches long, look like they landed with their own spacecraft and could possible fly off with a small child in their grippy claws.
I called the management office the first day this evil thing appeared and politely asked them to send someone to remove it.
Ok, it sounded more like this:
Me: "AAAAAHHHHHH KILL IT! KILL IT! OM MY GAWD KILL IT!!!
MO (Management Office): Ah, ma'am you are going to have to stop screaming. What seems to be the problem?
Me: ITS ALIVE!! KILL IT KILL IT!! OH MY GAWD IT'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!!!
MO: Ma'am, you have to tell me what "it" is or hang up and dial 9-1-1.
(Which I had previously done, but found out that the police department does not find entomological emergencies on the same level as, oh say, homicidal ones. Go figure.)
After about five minutes of me hyperventilating and explaining to the office that I can not walk out my door or down the stairwell because this THING was blocking my path, I asked them if they could please remove it. Although I was told they would "put in a maintenance request" I somehow think no one was taking me seriously. That was three days ago. IT is still there...and I haven't left my apartment for fear IT is going to attack me.
Yes, I know it LOOKS dead. But really? How do you know? It could be one of those creatures that plays dead right up until the pray gets close up.... Then WHAM! It attacks. Plus, this thing looks scary. Biblical plague type scary. Blood sucking scary. And I am a wimp. I call my Dad (who lives two states away) to come kill the grasshoppers my cats drag in. Even though the grasshopper has only one leg left and is limp-hopping to the left in a desperate attempt to flee my Marque de Sade grasshopper-torturing cat before death. I won't even go outside if the cicadas are out. I'm sorry, but anything God sends as a plague upon man-kind you know can't be good. (Ok, Biblical scholars - you say grasshopper; I say cicada. Get over it.) Plus, they have beady little eyes and you can't kill them. Not even with your car. Running over them a bazillion times. Forward and reverse. Not that I tried that for 40 minutes until the sucker finally flew away and I needed to be persuaded out of my car with promises of xanax and Ho-Hos.
Back to the Bugger at hand. It is still there. I have called the MO every day asking them to kill it or remove the carcass - whichever works best for them. I don't care. I just want it GONE. I have fumigated my apartment against any future attacks or incase this guy had friends bent on some six-legged-vendetta.
I have got to leave this apartment. I am going stir-crazy. I have eaten all the food in my refrigerator and am now eyeing the cat food in a desperate attempt to stand off starvation. I'm out of coffee, coke zero and my xanax is dangerously low. The Ho-Hos were gone after day one. It is not a pretty site. I'd call the pizza delivery guy, but unless he can chuck a hand-tossed meat lover's up to my balcony, I'm afraid opening the door is not an option. I don't know how long I can last. This may be the end for me......