"you are bringing cockroaches into the apartment!"
The sheer ridiculousness of the previous statement caught her offguard. She thought she was getting reamed for the guy she was hiding in her room, who had been taking secret showers and effectively not cleaning out his abundant curly locks from the drain. She stammered slightly, her heart pacing a bit faster, the way it tends to during confrontational situations.
"i'm sorry, did you just say I'm bringing cochroaches into the apartment?"
"Yeah, are you deaf? You are bringing cockroaches into the apartment." His thick Israeli accent made him sound like he had a speach impediment, and as far as she could tell he was retarded.
"you've got to be kidding me, the cockroaches were here before I moved in!" She was shaking slightly, looking around for any sort of help but there was no one. How had it come to this, she thought. What an unfuckingbelievable thing.
Unintelligible Hebrew is heard from the living room.
"Oh yeah, and we know about the guy."
It was ten long minutes before she could think clearly again...her first month in the city--her first time ever living with roomates out of her parents home and there she was, being thrown onto the street for being a roach-enticing hoochie. This wasn't the first 'first' that had happened since she'd made her pilgrimage from the middle class suberbs of Connecticut to the jewish part of Brooklyn. She winced as she remembered the previous weekend. Her head began to spin slightly as she recalled the cuasi-overdose she had after she smoked that sketchy joint with that sketchy male stripper from the gay club. It was not her first rodeo--she was new to the city, yes...new to drinking in bars, yes somewhat. But she had somehow misjudged her own best judgement that night, and the bump on her woozy head reminded her that even though the food poisoning from the funky chicken fingers at the gay bar wasn't her fault, perhaps her downing coronas to wash down chicken fingers that she'd bought in a gay bar on Christopher Street had been her own fault. At least it made for a good story, she thought to herself, slightly smiling and thankful to be alive, even if she was soon-to-be homeless.
The guy got up from the bed next to her and started getting dressed...she just kind of stared off into the distance, not wanting to come to terms with quite possibly the most embarassing thing that'd ever happened to her. She wanted to dissapear. She began to pace, thinking where she was going to go, what she was going to tell her poor parents that had just driven her out there not even a month before, her mother crying on the drive home, missing her only daughter. She almost felt guilty about having left home....like it was her own fault for putting herself in that awkward place. But there was no going home now--she had fallen in love with the city in September...the golden red leaves shedding themselves from the treetop fingertips.
"So, zey said you were bringing cockroaches into ze apartment?" It was hard for her to focus with all the dildos hanging up behind the cash register. It was only her 3rd time ever in a sex shop and she was still getting to know the inventory.