I Think I’d Just Hold It

A few years back my dad and I stopped at a popular burger chain so he could grab some lunch. I’ve always liked their competitor’s food better, so I excused myself to use the restroom while he ordered.  

The ladies’ room was fully decorated in twenty-year-old wallpaper and faded tiles, complete with grime and dust bunnies. But I decided any port in a storm, and I had just finished washing my hands when I noticed I wasn’t alone. A very large, cockroach-type creature was trying to crawl up a tile lining the gap between the walls and the flooring. I could only watch, horrified, as the dark brown insect suddenly shuddered, fell to the floor, and flipped over on its back. It didn’t move at all, and by this point, I was fairly certain it was dead. This wouldn’t have been as terrifying if the restroom had had any sort of insect poison hidden behind the toilet or the trash can… but nope, nothing was visible.  

So, I hastily dried off my hands and scurried out to the table where my father was happily eating his meal. I didn’t want to put off his food, so I waited until we’d left to explain why I’d answered, “NO!” so quickly when he’d asked if I wanted anything.

The last time we went past that particular location, the restaurant was closed. But I’m still haunted by the question of what killed that massive bug. Was it a very well-hidden poison? Or was it the cooking?