Last month I was smoking on the roof at night and a giant cockroach ran up the back of my leg. I didn’t realize it was there at first because it was soft and fast, but then I swiped at what I thought was an itch and figured it out. I screamed and threw my cigarette, but then forgot about it for a while, and kept smoking on the roof at night. Two evenings ago I went up and noticed a giant cockroach standing on the threshold to the roof, waving its antenna at me, and I stood there like ughhh shit I forgot about that other time! It’s dark on my roof, so I can’t see what’s moving around where on the ground, and it didn’t seem worth it to risk being touched by one again, so I
went back inside and never smoked again went down smoked on the sidewalk. But I will never smoke on the roof again at night.
Anyway, the point is that I think my hot landlord who doesn’t want anyone using the roof (even though there are nice stairs and it’s a totally normal roof, and the broken door is now fixed — although admittedly I did sign an additional clause saying I’d never go up there, but I think that’s just so no one can sue if I fall off) … can do the vampire/bat body-swap thing with cockroaches. Either that or the cockroach is my father, who made me swear I’d never smoke. If that were the case, though, I’d be up there all the time to see if he’d figured out how to talk with me yet.
Or it’s all just a silver lining to the end of shorts season.