Last night I was judge, jury, and executioner.
The story: I got home from the studio a little after 1am. It’s been rainy and sort of chilly here for the past few days (or maybe a week? I can’t remember – even after 3 years, it never fails to amaze me how drizzly weather can settle in here for several days in a row; I grew up on the plains where loud crashing thunderstorms roll in and out the same day). Anyway, it was rainy and cold and I was tired. I was really looking forward to a nice glass of wine and then a hot shower before bed.
The wine part of my plan went well. I had a glass of a Portuguese red, the name of which I don’t recall. There’s a large Portuguese population in New Bedford (it’s the largest Portuguese community in the US – read more about one of the town’s big festivals here). The group was initially drawn here because of the whaling industry, way back when. The community still thrives today, and as a result there’s easy access to many different Portuguese foods and beverages.
One of my friends recently told me about a shop on Dartmouth street that carries really cheap, good Portuguese wine. It’s called The Butcher Shop. I don’t know that I’d buy my meat there, but they have lots of other neat stuff and a large selection of wine, often as low as $2.50/bottle. Don’t laugh, but because I don’t know much about Portuguese wine, or to be honest, wine in general, I usually make my selections based on the picture/design of the label. Lame, I know, but I have yet to be disappointed! 😉
Anyway, after finishing my glass, I went to take my shower. I pulled back the curtain and discovered a 2″ long (not including the legs) centipede/millipede/disgusting creepy crawler. I hate hate hate those things. They have so many legs and they can run so fast and they’re so quiet, you never know they’re there. Until – BAM – you see them and barely choke back a scream that would have set your landlord pounding on your door, wondering if you’re being murdered.
My shower/bathtub seems to be a hip hang out place for these monstrosities. I found several there last summer as well. I don’t know why. I haven’t seen them anywhere else in my apartment. Only the bathroom, and more specifically, only the tub. Maybe they come up from the drain. Yuck. Once I discovered one hiding under my bottle of conditioner. I didn’t see it until I was in the shower, with wet hair, picking the bottle up. You can imagine how well that went over.
So this beast was chillaxin’ in my tub. What did I do? I judged him. Instantly, I found him guilty of: #1 being a creepy crawler and #2 having the gall to invade my bathroom. One speedy trial later, he was sentenced to death by bleaching, smushing, and flushing.
After his demise, I grabbed the hand-held sprayer and shot water underneath my bottles of soap. Needed to flush out anyone else who might have been hiding, you see? (I learned from my other experiences.) Then I proceeded to shower with the curtain open so I could keep an eye on my pajamas. My bathroom is tiny and I like to put my pjs on the floor in front of the space heater to warm up while I’m washing. But this time I was afraid the smushed creature’s friends would seek revenge by snuggling into my little pile of clothes.
Luckily for them, they stayed away. I admit to vigorously shaking the tank top and sweatpants out before donning them, though. Just to be safe.
Here’s a photo montage for you:
Also, remember to enter the contest to win one of my handmade ceramic cups! Contest ends on Sunday.
The defendant.
Verdict: guilty.
Amy Uthus Ceramics 