My very first cockroach encounter occurred while I was watching TV around midnight back in 1993. I was in my first apartment and I was alone and slightly prone to hysterics.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement and sat up to get a better look. Previously in my life, the only bug problem I had encountered were ants in my Parent's kitchen the summer before. What I found in my kitchen was what I would now refer to as a 'medium' sized cockroach. At the time I would have told you it was enormous but what did I know? This was pre NYC. But at the time it was my first roach and I panicked.
It was too late to call anyone and although I had been ready for bed, I was now wide awake. I didn't want to go lie down in my room because what if the roach came and got me there? What if, God forbid, it made a nest in my hair!! (There was no Discovery channel back then) I figured it was only a few more hours till daylight and then I could call my Mom. What she was supposed to do escapes me now, but it seemed like a logical plan at the time. Logical meaning totally bat-shit crazy. My official visit to crazy town began a few hours of TV and cigarettes later when I began to worry that the cockroaches were coming after me. And to get to me they might crawl up the back of the sofa! So, logically, I decided the only safe place was the coffee table. No toes or fingers could go over the edges and I had to keep spinning around every few minutes to check my "borders". My deal with myself was that I could not call Mom until 6 AM. I thought that was a good time because my little brother was still in high school and she always got up to get us up when I lived at home. Little did I know that she only got up that early to make sure I got up and my brother was more reliable in the waking up and staying awake department. So after what seemed like an eternity, 6 AM finally rolled around and as I stood on the table (I long ago abandoned sitting as being too risky) clutching my phone, I called my Mother. The conversation went (approximately) as follows:
Mom: Hello?
Sarah: Mom?
Mom: Sarah, it's 6 o'clock in the morning!
Sarah: I thought you'd be up.
Mom: I am now.
Sarah: Oh Mom! (starts to cry)
Mom: WHAT?! WHAT HAPPENED?
Sarah: (crying) There's.... there's a......
Mom: Get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath.
Sarah: Oh Mom! There's a cockroach in my kitchen and I couldn't sleep all night because it might make nests in my hair and I couldn't sit on the sofa because they were gonna climb up the back and get me so I'm standing on the coffee table and I don't know what to do!!! (crying again)
Mom: (long silent pause).....................That's it. I'm taking you to a mental institution.
Sarah: Mom! NO! Please!
Mom: Is that what you want? I think it's a good idea.
Sarah: Please Mom! I don't wanna go to a mental institution!
Mom: I'm sick and tired of this from you Sarah. It's enough already! If you're going to be nuts than you belong with the other nuts.
Sarah: I'm sorry! Please! I don't know what to do!
Mom: Have you tried cleaning? How about that?
Sarah: (sniffling) Okay.
And so I cleaned the apartment and then slept for a very, very long time. Regaining my sanity, (and I suspect, sobering up) I called my Mom again and apologized. But she was right: I never saw another cockroach there again.
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