Cable guy came tonight to give me back my internet. And he also ruined my life. All in one pop, bam. Just like that. Guy walks in with his cables and his internet-y tools, looks around and says, "Oh, hey. My buddy used to live in this exact apartment."
I smiled and nodded because have you seen my apartment? It's this-big. Like, studio, mini, it's me, my cats and a bed. Small. He glances into the kitchen and continues, "Still got a cockroach problem in here?"
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH. Uh. What?
That was my brain.
"Yeah," he chuckles, "it was so bad he couldn't even turn on the stove..." And he trailed off at the look on my face. A combination of horror and OHMYGODSHUTTHEFUCKUPCOCKROACHES.
"Oh," he said. "Should I not have said anything?"
And that is how I died. Because did you hear him? MY apartment - mine - this place where I live - had a cockroach problem. SO BAD HE COULDN'T EVEN TURN ON THE STOVE.
I DON'T DO COCKROACHES. WHY ARE WE YELLING? OMG LOUD NOISES.