My old roommate used to work on a Broadway show and once told me the story of a dancer who put her foot into a slipper, only to find a cockroach was there first. After hearing that story, I took to shaking my shoes before putting them on -- especially if I hadn't worn them in a while. But that was years ago, and I'm in a bigger hurry these days, so shaking my shoes is not something I do as often. Until today, anyway.
This morning, while rushing around my room trying to decide what I was going to wear (it's tricky when there's snow everywhere, puddles on every corner and it's so warm I don't need a coat), I slid my (thankfully socked) foot into my cowboy boot. As soon as I was almost snuggly in there, I felt something crunch at the end of my toes. Not thinking anything of it, I stuck my hand in there. As soon as I did, I wished I wouldn't have. I knew what was in there.
I shook my boot and a leg -- which very obviously belonged to a very large cockroach -- fell out on the carpet. I tried not to freak, because it was dead. But really, dead or alive, they're all the same to me: disgusting, scary creatures of hell (remind me someday to tell you the story of the cockroach that tried to kill me).
There was no one around to help me -- and you know, I Am Woman, or some bullshit --so I shook my boot with all my might and the carcass of the Creature of Hell fell to the carpet. I wrapped my hand in toilet paper about 20 times over, picked him up and flushed him to the underbelly of New York, where he -- and all of his kind -- belong.
Did I wear the boot? What do you think?