One hardback meets another

There's nothing worse than sitting down to an eagerly awaited home-cooked dinner only for the phone to start ringing. Grrr. You know it's probably nothing that can't wait but you answer it, just in case.

If only it was just the phone ringing.

Here's a story:

The other night, just as I sat down to my weekly steak and fried potatoes I caught sight of something scuttling across the floor towards my bedroom. It didn't take me long to identify it as a cockroach. In 2002 I'd shared a hostel with other living examples of its kind on the West coast of Australia. My reflexes kicked in. I dived ahead of it and slammed my bedroom door shut in its face.

But no! my worst fears were realised... the two inch gap between door and carpet wasn't going to deter it. Moments later, it cleared it with ease and was through to the next round. My bedroom.

(There was a short interlude here of 10 minutes plus half an hour whilst I decided I may as well eat my dinner and watch the end of Hotel Babylon and plot my next move. The Dog was out and I didn't know what else to do.)

I'm pleased to say the cockroach was to come off worse. Fortified by a medium-bodied 2006 Marlborough Riesling (me that is), I found it sitting by the foot of my bed, whereupon I dropped a very large, very heavy National Geographic hardback on top of it when it wasn't looking. While I would like to say that I deeply regret my actions, I don't. It felt no pain and shall be missed by no one. Plus it meant I was able to sleep in my own bed that night.

It wasn't a pretty picture though.


The End