the first and hopefully last encounter…

Third week in the big apple. It was time. I couldn’t prolong it any longer. The beloved yet dreaded, “L” word. Yep, you guessed it. Laundry. It’s the most un-fun thing to do on a Sunday night before the work week. I can think of a million more exciting activities that bring color to my otherwise bland existence. I grabbed the pile of dirty, disgusting clothes and headed down to the lower level. The basement, where people go to die. oh, and throw out the garbage. As I headed down, I dialed my brother’s phone number hoping I would get a chance to finally talk and catch up. I approached the door where all the machinery is kept. As I entered, I was boasting to him about how much I love the city and how wonderful and magical this place is. “I can’t even tell you how much I love this city and how wonderful and magical this place is…”As the words were coming out of my mouth, I spotted something from the corner of my eye. It was the size of a cat. Large and in charge. One word. RAID. I screamed, dropped my phone, and scurried out of the cockroach infested dungeon. I watched through the glass window as the roach moseyed its way under one of the washing machines. It was gross. My poor phone was still in there. Stuck in the battlefield. All alone. I had to rescue it. I tip toed in and ran as quickly as I possibly could...grabbed my lifeline and didn’t turn back. I hope I never see another one of those critters again or else it’s curtains for this “concrete jungle.”