I am writing
this at an outside table at Starbucks which is located near my apartment in
Novena. I have been forced to temporarily leave my abode while fumigators spray
poisonous concoctions to rid my apartment of cockroaches. I do not have an
infestation of these nasty little insects however I have seen a couple in
recent weeks and I lodged a complaint with my building manager Mr. Tan.
I was not
expecting such a prompt response to my complaint from Building Management. When
I arrived home this evening and was walking to the lift lobby Mr. Tan rushed up
to me. He was as usual accompanied by one of the dopey and surly security
guards.
I heard Mr.
Tan before I saw him.
He yelled, "Mr.
Peter. Mr. Peter the cockroach men are here"
I jumped a
little in surprise at the sound of Mr. Tan's voice. I was not expecting to see
him and he appeared suddenly.
"The
cockroach men Mr. Tan?" I enquired
"They
are here to poison the dirty insects in your apartment"
"Now?"
"Now
Mr. Peter"
"This
is not particularly convenient Mr. Tan" I advised.
It was 7.00pm
on Monday evening and I had planned on just plonking myself on my couch and
watching some television. I have had a relatively long and full day at the
office battling and bantering with the English for whom I work.
The cockroach
problem that I had related to Building Management a few days earlier was
grossly exaggerated. I had used it in an effort to deflect attention from the
issue of the flying of my Tibetan Prayer flags on my verandah. Building
management have asked me to remove these flags following a complaint that was
lodged by my insane Danish neighbor Jens. I wrote about this a couple of days
ago and I am not going to repeat the saga again here.
The security
guard who was accompanying Mr. Tan was standing behind him during this
conservation and I noticed a little smirk appear on his face when I mentioned
the inconvenience. I am at war with the security guards of my complex. We have
had a number of confrontations since the forbidden fruits episode last Chinese
New Year. I exact my revenge on them daily by rapping on the security room
window whenever I depart or arrive from the condominium building. They are
always asleep and I wake them up.
"You
will fumigate this cockroach too?" I asked Mr. Tan - nodding to the security
guard.
Mr. Tan looked
puzzled and the security guard looked panicked. It was a bit of a rude comment to
make but I was a tad annoyed by his smirk and the fact that that my quiet
evening at home was to be interrupted.
"The
cockroach men are here now Mr. Peter" Mr. Tan repeated.
"May
we let them into your apartment?' he asked.
"I
guess so Mr. Tan" I sighed.
"How
long will this take to do?"
"It
will only take twenty minutes" Mr. Tan advised.
"However
you must not enter your apartment for two hours after they have sprayed"
"Two
hours?"
"Two
hours Mr. Peter. The spray they use is very poisonous and if you breathe it in
you will become most sick"
"I
don't want that" I responded.
"Let
me go up and get changed and then we can start. Can?"
"Can" Mr. Tan responded.
About ten
minutes later there was a knock on my door and when I opened it there were two
men dressed in full-on chemical warfare suits and wearing respirators on their
faces. They were carrying big bottles of chemicals with spray nozzles attached.
I let them in and asked them how toxic was the poison that they were going to
use. One of the guys took off his respirator and informed me that it was very
toxic.
He told me
that the cockroach is a very hardy insect and they can survive for up to a
month without eating at all. He also told me that cockroaches can survive
without air for up to an hour and can recover completely after being submerged
in water for half an hour. He informed me that experiments had been done to
prove this. The cockroach man also told me that it is believed that cockroaches
might in fact inherit the earth if there was ever a nuclear holocaust. The
Fumigator said that cockroaches had a radiation resistance that was fifteen
times higher than we human beings.
I learned
quite a few interesting facts about cockroaches this evening.
I then left
them to it.
On the way
out I saw Mr. Tan and the security guard lingering in the lift lobby area
and I suspect that they were waiting there for me. I informed Mr. Tan that I
would return in two and a half hours and that I would like the security guard
to enter my apartment before me and to sit there for five minutes to determine whether
the air was still poisoned and dangerous.
I told Mr. Tan
that if the security guard choked to death then I would give it another half an
hour before I re-entered. I feel some shame that the Security guard looked
terrified and that he visibly winced with anxiety at this suggestion
but Mr. Tan nodded his agreement.
I then laughed
and told them that I was not being serious.
The security
guard looked greatly relieved so I told him that I only wanted him to sit in my
apartment for two minutes to see if it was safe. He winced again and I gave him
an evil chuckle as I rode away on my bicycle.
So here I am
at Starbucks. I have had a very nice bowl of Ramen for my dinner and I am now
sipping on a double shot vanilla latte whilst I am writing this. I am waiting
for the cockroach poison to dissipate. An hour and a half has passed since the
fumigation commenced so I have at least another hour to go before it is safe to
return home.
There are
apparently about thirty different species of cockroaches in the world and the
tropical cockroaches of Asia are the biggest.
The word
cockroach is derived from the Spanish word cucaracha. There is quite a
famous Mexican song called "La Cucaracha" which is all
about a cockroach that has lost one of it's six legs and can no longer walk
properly. The song was written and became popular during the Mexican
Revolution. This revolution commenced in 1910 and went on for ten bloody years.
It was basically a civil war. Whilst the lyrics of "La
Cucaracha" might seem a bit silly it is politically symbolic.
It is a
revolutionary song.
I have had a
pause in my writing whilst I had an enjoyable conversation with an English
tourist who sat at the table next to me at Starbucks. He initiated the
conversation by asking me if the bicycle that I had parked next to my table was
mine. I told him that it was. I could tell that the English tourist was a
Northerner from his distinctive accent so I gave him an "Ay oop" and
he seemed genuinely delighted at this and gave me an "Ay oop"
straight back.
"Ay
oop"
is a distinctive Northern English greeting that means 'hello'. I have a
Barclays bicycle and it is the only one in existence outside of the city of
London. I have described how I acquired this bicycle in a previous piece that I
wrote entitled "The Bank Bicycle". It was acquired quite legally and
legitimately.
The English in
Singapore often ask me if the Barclay's bicycle program also operates here on
the island and I mostly tell them that it does not. However I sometimes tell
the odd English tourist that it does and I send them off on a wild goose chase.
My response depends on the mood that I am in and how annoying I find the
English who ask this question of me.
The Northerner
asked me how I acquired the Barclays bicycle and I told him that I had stolen
it from London. Let me emphasise again that I acquired this bicycle both
legally and legitimately and I just felt like telling the Northerner a bit of a
tall story. I do this sometimes.
I
spontaneously lie.
He seemed
quite impressed at the fact that I had stolen a Barclays bicycle and I spun him
an elaborate tale of how I had cut up the bike and posted it piece by piece
back to my house in Singapore. I have no idea why I spontaneously concocted
such a story but it entertained the both of us for quite a while.
I asked the
Northerner if he wanted to take the bike for a bit of a ride but he declined. I
was secretly relieved at his declination as he was a big fat lad and he may
have bent the frame. As he left Starbucks the Northerner told me that he was
off to meet up with some of his Northerner mates and that they were going out
on a drinking frenzy. This did not surprise me in the least as the Northerners who
I know here in Singapore are vast consumers of alcohol.
They are
drinking machines.
I gave him a
loud "Ay oop" as he left Starbucks which he returned with
gusto.
"Ay
oop" may
also be used to say farewell.
I shall return
now to my hopefully cockroach-free apartment where I pray that I will not be
poisoned by residual toxins. As I ride my bicycle back into the complex I will
rap loudly on the window of the security guard's room at the gatehouse.
I will awaken
the sleeping guard.
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