Roaches ‘R’ Us

So it’s Saturday afternoon and I sit down in this Chinese restaurant by myself and stare out at the patrons wondering if they notice that I’m demented.  The waiter comes over and asks, “You know what you wike to order?” I’m like, “No I do not Chang. Why don’t you waddle off and fetch me a menu? In fact why don’t you bring me two?”  He’s asks, “You waiting for someone?” I’m back at him with, “Yeah, I’m waiting… for you… to bring me the goddamn menus now lets chop chop!” I clap my hands twice and off he shuffles.  I stare across the restaurant and see a happy family of six enjoying their pu-pu platter.  The youngest at the table stares back at me- kids know when something is up- and I quickly give him the finger just between us.  Then I pick up the soy sauce and pour a stream of it into my mouth.  The waiter returns as I am putting the soy back on the table.  I think he saw- but he won’t say anything.  He hands me the two menus and I hand them back to him telling him “I know what the fuck I want Chang.  Bring me some dumplings and beef sticks. And tell your chef not to touch his dick before he touches my food.” I clap my hands twice and he pauses for a moment and then hustles off.

While I’m waiting I reach under the table and pull up my bag of goodies.  A small plastic bag with three things in it.  A jar of roaches, a dead rat, and a human head (don’t ask).  I pull the rat out of the bag and put it on my lap. The waiter returns with my dumplings and I immediately tell him I didn’t order dumplings.  He’s like, “Sir, you order da dumflings!” He’s finally annoyed.  I’m like, “Keep your voice down Wong.  Keep it down.” The waiter is like, “You go! You leave the restaurant! We no want your business!”  I’m like, “If I have to leave, ..this rat (I hold it up a little by its tail so Wang can see it) is getting flung over there on that table,” I point to the family of six, “and you don’t want to disturb those children? Do you Chester Chew?”  He stares at the rat and then looks at me Chinese style wide eyed and speechless.  I continue with, “Now bring me the Egg Foo Young that I ordered and everything will be fine.”  He mumbles and then walks off to do god knows what to my Egg Foo Young.   Out come the jar of roaches.

I screw off the lid and grab a handful of the horrible bugs and funnel them into my mouth.  I look over at the happy family at six and see the young boy staring at me.  I think he saw.  I close the lid of the jar and also the back of my throat. The roaches desperately crawl around in my mouth looking for an exit. I can feel them tickling the roof of my mouth and the back of my teeth.  They sure are active little things.  Occasionally one tries to make a break for it and uses their little legs to try and patheically pry open my mouth.  I can feel a leg now and then poke through and probe around the outside of my lips.  I just tilt my head back and throw them all to the back of the bus.

As soon as the waiter returns with my Egg Foo Young I slap the plate out of his hand and flip the table grabbing stares from every single person within eyeshot. I stumble around the restaurant knocking over chairs and smashing a whole silver tray of dishes over.  A few waiters approach me but I fend them off and actually punch one full fisted straight in to his face splattering his nose.  I crash my way across the restaurant until I come to a flying rest on top of the happy family table.  Their food and tea splatters everywhere and they all back their chairs away from the table.  The children and the mother start screaming while the father yells “Jesus Christ! Jesus!” nobody gets up from the table and I keep my eyes wide open unmoving and unblinking. I have a panicked look on my face and having my mouth shut the whole time has gotta look absolutely bizarre.  I start convulsing as the nice nice family stares at my show. I’m vibrating.  The roaches are active. I flip myself over a convulse a bit on my frontside doing a whole fish flop flop thing. The table is rattling and glasses and dishes are flying everywhere.  Then suddenly I lie absolutely still with my eyes wide open and glossed.  The crowd of the restaurant crowd around the spectacle that I am.   I hear nothing for a good ten seconds. The silence in the room is broken when the smallest child whispers “Is he dead?” Chung the waiter finally comes over to me and hesitantly shakes my shoulder a bit to see if I move. Someone mumbles out “Jesus H. Christ will someone call 911…”

At this point I take a inner look at myself. I asked myself how my life had come to this- pretending I was dead after having a fit in a chinese restaurant with a mouthful of roaches and a crowd of normal nice people (and children!) staring at me.  I let my head roll to the side and blankly stare at the crowd staring at me.  I keep my eyes dead as I take in the looks on their faces-  the horror of the unexpected.  The death? of one of their own perhaps.  But I wasn’t dead and  I wasn’t one of their own. I wasn’t with them and always refused to be.

 I slowly let my mouth fall open and let the dozen or so roaches scurried across my cheeks, down my chin, and over my open eyes.. A white noise poured into my ears as the roaches scattered for cover.  Not wanting to be seen.  Almost as if they were aware that they were completely horrible creatures and ashamed of their appearance.  They scurry off waiting and plan and evolve.   Proudly I realize the disgusting repulsive roaches will one day rule the earth and here I was using them as a prop on a lazy Saturday.


Hosted by