So, it’s no secret that I have a serious phobia of cockroaches. Serious. It’s with good reason, as I’ve explained here. Since very few people seem to appreciate the inherent danger of cockroaches, I offer an account of my latest near-death experience.

It was a Saturday evening, and I had just enjoyed my favorite bowl of chicken pho at Mai’s with “Britino” (cuz he’s 1/2 British, 1/2 Mexican). Walked to his car, got in, closed the doors, key in ignition…Check. All of a sudden, Britino makes a weird sound. I look over, and he’s pointing at the driver’s side window. At first, I couldn’t figure out what he was pointing at….the side view mirror? Something on the sidewalk?

No.

Slowly, my eyes focused on the thing outside Britino’s window. It was a cockroach. A huge, fucking, black cockroach. One of those tree-roaches, the kind that is at LEAST 2 inches long and flies through the air searching for victims. I’m positive it also had teeth and a poisonous stinger.

Immediately, I begin to scream. “AHHHHHH!!!!!!” For some reason, Britino thinks he can get The Killer Cockroach to fall off by rolling down the window.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??!!! DON’T ROLL DOWN THE WINDOW, ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY??!!! AHHHHH!!!!”

Either the window’s movement, or my screaming, got The Killer Cockroach moving, because it suddenly scurried up the window and onto the roof of the car.

“IS THE SUN ROOF OPEN??!! CLOSE IT!!!! WHAT IF IT COMES IN HERE?? AHHHHH!!!!”

Then, silence. The Killer Cockroach is nowhere to be seen, and every hair on my head is sticking straight up. I’m clutching Britino’s iPod, ready to throw it at anything that moves.

After a few minutes, Britino shrugs, says “I guess it jumped off,” and pulls out into the street. I’m far from convinced, and spend the entire trip back scanning every window for signs of the roach. I refuse to put my feet on the floor in case the roach decides to crawl into the car from underneath. Britino says there’s no way the roach could have held on while the car was moving, but I’m no fool. Roaches will do anything to fuck you up…..even if it means hanging on to the roof of a Golf.

When we get back to my place, I’m terrified that The Killer Cockroach will fall on my head when I open the car door. I gather my things, count to three and scramble out of the car as fast as possible. Suddenly, Britino says, “Wow, look. It’s still there.”

To my horror, The Killer Cockroach is STILL sitting on on the ROOF of the car. This means the little fucker held on to a car going 40-50 mph for at least 15 minutes. Think about it. If that’s not proof the little fuckers are pure evil, I dunno what is.

Britino flicks the roach off the car, and stomps on it once with his shoe.
“It’s not dead,” I say.
“But I heard it crunch,” says Britino.
“Doesn’t matter,” I reply. “Roaches can come back to life.”

The next morning, the roach is nowhere to be found.
I know it’s coming back to kill me.