The Cockroach: NOT the funniest story you ever read, but the second funniest if you read my other...

This is the old version of "A Cockroach in Brooklyn" (read next post for the best blog post ever/ funniest short story you ever read, etc). I only keep this old tattered version cuz it's got the one-and-only comment I have ever received on my blog ever. If I delete the post, I delete the comment, and henceforth, the realization I am truly just existing, non-existent, here on the web. Then I would have to question other things about my existence. I can't do that to my self esteem. Just like the cockroach I couldn't squash, this is the post I can't unpost. Just ignore it. But don't ignore it. My cyber esteem is still shaky at the best of times. I'm not going to beg for a comment or anything, just wondering if one day, my one dream of one other comment, will be fulfilled. If it's you, and then you comment, we will be connected forever as cyber esteem giver and cyber esteem receiver.  Just saying.






Feb 21

Two nights in a row, a cockroach has appeared, 

happy-go-lucky, just dangling his antennae out on 

top of my mirror above the sink.  The first time I 

saw him, I swatted at him with my lime green fly 

swatter.  I could tell I just knocked him off his 

perch and didn’t kill him.  But when I saw him in 

exactly the same place the next day – at the 

right-hand edge, facing north, just like before - 

I couldn’t believe it, twiddling his little scrawny 

hands as if he was coating himself with sun tan lotion 

on a glorious day at the beach.  I swatted him again, 

but I know I just knocked him over.

 For a second, I got really mad at this obnoxious 

cockroach, who wouldn’t go away, dodging my swats 

time and again. Then, as I was walking back to the 

living room, I realized that that little critter out 

there is my new roommate.  Suddenly my feelings changed.  

I found myself looking for him in his regular spot when 

I brushed my teeth to go to bed.  If I don’t see him 

tomorrow when I get home from work, I might even be 

disappointed.  But if I do see him, I’ll be sure to 

name him.  As long as he doesn’t breed – which I suppose 

is out of the question, and “he” might be a “she”, anyway – 

but...if we could make that deal, I think we could live together 

side-by-side without any problems at all.  He’d be the happiest 

cockroach this side of the Williamsburg Bridge, sharing an 

apartment with me, not paying rent, living off my delicious 

take-out leftovers – the cream of Brooklyn cuisine - and having my 

personal guarantee of his life.  And I’d have someone to look 

out for when I got home.  Actually, I’ve already decided, his 

name is Sid.  Whether I see him again or not.  It’s Sid.







Feb 23 

I didn’t see Sid yesterday.  Thought maybe I’d scared him off for 

good with all that swatting.  But today, I thought I saw him behind 

the dishwashing liquid, then scuttle off and hide in the corner when 

my shadow loomed over the sink.  He was about the same size, but 

really I can’t tell that it’s Sid unless he’s sitting in his regular 

spot.  It’s not like he has a blond crewcut and one missing tooth, so 

that I can recognize him.  But a couple of hours later, there his is. 

  In exactly the same spot – at the right edge of the mirror, facing 

north.  He looked like he was asleep – no dancing antennae – so I 

didn’t want to disturb him.  Just smiled and said, “Hi Sid.”

 But then I came to wondering if Sid was the right name for him.  

Seems like it could be, but the only problem is my last Japanese 

fighting fish, after a few weeks in my custody, had earned the Sid 

Vicious... (originally known as Terriaki Finger Lickin’ Good, 

followed by three lip-smacking sounds) ....because that fish was so 

mean that he tried to attack your fingers with unabashed rage when 

you fed him.  I guess I’ll have to differentiate this one by calling 

him Sid the Roach, because he’s not vicious at all.  I’m the vicious 

one in our relationship.  I also have to come to terms with the facts 

that “Sid” may be “Sidetta” and may be making babies behind the 

mirror somewhere.  I have visions of waking up one morning to 

hundreds of tiny, mini-Sids fanning out from behind the mirror.  

Hopefully, Sid/Sidetta is barren.  Maybe she’s trying to have babies, 

but it’s not working out.  Kinda like me.  







Feb 24, 2am

My relationship with Sid is souring.  I’m becoming suspicious – 

wondering what he’s up to behind the mirror, wondering where he’s 

walking his dirty feet when the lights go out and I’m asleep.  For 

the first time since the beginning, I saw him today and wanted to 

swat him.  Maybe because he wasn’t in his usual spot.  He was closer 

to the left side of the mirror ledge, his bottom towards me, his head 

dipping down behind the mirror.  Looking like he’s up to no good.  

But I couldn’t swat him.  Because I’ve already named him.  That’s Sid 

the Roach. That's my roommate.