Last week I was brushing my teeth, getting ready for bed, when I thought I saw something running across the floor. Sure enough, there was a huge bug, about 2.5 inches long, scurrying under the sink. My rapid response system went into action. I grabbed a tube of toothpaste and hurled it at him. He was huge, I swear the toothpaste bounced off him.
I finally nailed him with a copy of James Rogers’ “Hot Commodities” (hardcover edition). Barbara was asleep so I didn’t bother her with the details.
A few nights later, I was in bed, reading a magazine, when another one of the buggers ran across the page I was reading. By the time I picked myself off the floor he had disappeared into the covers. I ripped the bed apart until I found him, then had James Rogers deal with him.
I showed the specimen to some friends and they were saying that it was only a “water bug.” Someone else told me it a “Palmetto bug.” But once the exterminator took a look at the little guy the next day he said, “Cockroach, for sure.” I told him some of my friends thought it was only a Palmetto bug. “Yeah, that’s the Florida expression for a cockroach,” he said, swinging into action with his toxic air cannister.
I guess you get used to those things down here.