Melony Louise's Natural Habitat

Today was one of the foulest experiences of my life.

Now I want to start with saying that when it comes to bugs, I'm not that much of a pussy. Um, bee-like creatures, big fuzzy spiders, and swarms of anything disturb me, but it's never like I see a bug and it's like I have a complete mental breakdown. And with The Boy's new place, I've grown my spine with cockroaches, since the place was infested with it when he moved in.

Also, I am by no means a neat freak. Okay, I kind of am, but half the time I'm too lazy to do much about it and it's less about stuff being clean and more about the appearance of their being space, if that makes sense.

So Nessa's mom's boyfriend type person lives exactly downstairs from her. And basically, he pays rent on a place he doesn't stay at. He works a lot, and he spends a lot of time at Nessa's. But we were informed that downstairs in his apartment there was a big old microwave and a carpet cleaner vacuum we could bring up.

Now, I had been there before, and this place is dirty in all the instantly expectable way, things strewn everywhere, trash giving a cramped feeling, left over stuff from the cats and children that no longer live there, and gives off a general dark and miserable feeling. And then the smell hits. Instantly unforgivable. It's not the smell of person, even a dirty person, just straight out ammonia from a horny cat spraying on everything. The kind of strong ammonia that makes the most overdone cologne smell like a slice of heaven.

So we bring the stuff up, and we discover there's a dead cockroach stuck inside the screen of the microwave, like where the timer is. Nessa's mom takes a knife to the front plate of this microwave. Basically, the microwave is made of dead cockroaches. So we lug it back down.

It's heavy, I'm already nervous from an awkward trek down stairs, I just wanna get it down on his dirty kitchen floor and get out. So I trip a bit getting into the kitchen, and I kick this giant bag of Meow Mix on the floor when I do. It moves about an inch and as we're putting it down I turn to see how much food fell out. and out from under it comes cockroaches. Not just one or two, folks. Somewhere between twenty or forty, all in different sizes. Man, it's about five hours later, and I've still got that paranoid itch going on.

I just don't understand someone letting a place get THAT fucking disgusting. And then paying rent on it! I mean, before that moment, I thought foul upkeep was my sister, but my sister would NEVER EVER EVER EVER let that happen, and when she was a wife and I'd go to her house, I never saw one fucking bug that wasn't in the backyard or being fed to her husband's frogs.

Man, I can't even say enough how wrong that was to me. Heh.