Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Roach Motel Extended-Stay Suite

Today, friends and neighbors, we are mourning the loss of Ralph. Ralph was with us only a few short years but his familiar presence was known by many who passed his way. On any trip up that dark, musty stairwell Ralph brought a little ray of sunshine into our day.

Before I tell yall more about Ralph, I’d like to talk about laziness. Now I’m not here to cast stones. Oh no. Anyone (especially the Spouse and my parents) can relate many a tale about my own laziness. I may not be Queen, but I am at least a minor Duchess when it comes to being lazy.

Along with laziness comes cleanliness. Don’t worry... I’m fastidious when it comes to my own bodily cleanliness so we won’t head down that scary, smelly path. But I do lack motivation when it comes to cleaning up my own abode. I think a lot of you will agree with me that cleaning house is the pits. I’d rather go down a sliding board made of razor blades and land in a bucket of salt that have to clean house.

Ok, it’s not THAT bad, but you get the idea. I do have a tendency to let things pile up. But usually after the third time I throw away the same dust bunny or pile of hair I’ll go ahead and break out the vacuum. (It’s weird, but I think those things crawl out of the trash can at night when we’re asleep.)

Which brings me back to Ralph. You see, Ralph is a roach. A dead roach. A dead roach what’s been lying on the fifth step in a stairwell at work. For years.

He didn’t magically reappear numerous times after being thrown away. It’s just that no one has ever made the effort to throw him away. No one. Not even the cleaning crew or a regular maintenance guy.

Sure, I’ve often thought, as I trot up the stairs to the soda machine for a 20 ounce Mountain Dew first thing in the morning, “Gees, I guess I could get a tissue and just pick that thing up and throw it away myself.” But, like many other human beings in the building that also use the same stairwell to get their morning caffeine jolt, no one else has made the effort, either. So Ralph has been lying there, belly up, since 2003.

Actually, I’m not entirely sure about the year, but I’ve been there since 2001, and I remember first encountering Ralph about a year or so after. He coulda been there longer and I just didn’t notice until later. And his name may not even be Ralph. It coulda been Edward or Howard or Bart or even Hortense. Hell, he coulda been female. But we don’t know. And we’ll never know. Because he’s dead. AND HE’S BEEN LYING ON THE FIFTH STEP SINCE 2003!

Last Friday, since it was right before another nice 4-day holiday weekend, I was feeling frisky. I got a Post-It and jotted upon it: “Hi! I’m Ralph the Roach and I’ve been here since 2003!” and stuck it on the wall just inches away from Ralph.

I fully expected that Post-It to remain another 5 years. Man, was I ever disappointed.

This morning one of our customer service gals comes over and asks, “Do you all know who put the note over the roach in the stairs?”

At first I was slightly shocked because she didn’t automatically assume it was me, knowing some of the crazy shit I do around there. But I slowly raised my hand in response.

“Well, he’s gone. The note, too.”

*blink blink* Wow, Post-Its are some powerfully shit, aren’t they? Fucking roach lays there for five years and all it took was one stupid Post-It note to get him thrown away. Must be magic or maybe some benevolent nighttime office fairies that swooped in and carried him off to Roach heaven. Wow... I wonder if that works in other ways? Instead of putting your tooth under a pillow you could put a Post-It note over something you want removed.

Shit, I’m gonna try that at home. Maybe if I put Post-It notes all over the house, the benevolent nighttime house fairies will clean this place and the Spouse and I won’t have to do it.

Or maybe Post-It notes will keep the killer dust bunnies from crawling out of the trashcan at night. Either way it’s worth a try.


Stephen Parrish said...

Girl, you need to start submitting for publication. This piece, with the language cleaned up, would find a home.

webhamstress said...

Unfortunately, I've tried leaving notes in various places around my house, but nothing gets done unless I do it myself. Maybe fairies only exist in offices?

KD said...

RIP Ralph :(

Hopefully some other critter will crawl up on the steps and die. Its always good to know the regulars :P

Unknown said...

I'd be happy to donate an armadillo to take Ralph's place. Or how about an opossum? No sale? Okay. Fair enough. I understand.

How about a case of Post-It notes? Surely you weren't the only one driven mad by your supervisor's holiday music. Accidents happen. Corpus delecti can find a new home in the stairwell. First Post-It, plastered -and- stapled right across its mouth, could read:

Don't open until Christmas

I'll even throw in a huge, gaudy gift bow! **Muahahahaha**
Ms. Duranny... mind if I add Hell Bus to my blogroll? Gawd- I've missed your entries!


Anonymous said...

Holly, this is one beautifully constructed piece of writing. It's perfection. And I haven't laughed so hard in a while.