Les Punaises

Yesterday, heat wave brought to an end as plauge of cockroaches begins. After work, attend yoga class. Air conditioning broken. Woman at front desk looks wilted, says that In the yoga room it isn't So Bad, the fans are on. Has obviously suffered heat exhaustion as room stunningly hot, fans merely pushing around sodden air. In class do not over exert self and become very calm and losose. The teacher summons us from the lying down portion of the class to sit up and say final Om. Sit, placing hands on knees feeling that have achieved very high level of bliss. Moment shattered by series of shrieks from back of room. Open eyes and wheel around, expecting to see sombody gushing blood. Shrieks spread from one woman to her neighbor. Finally one of them says it is A Bug. A Big Roach crawled on us, the other clarifies. It takes four men to subdue and kill the roach to which the teacher says (a bit caustically for a yoga class, feel) Look, all the men had to be involved. (Note: Perhaps there is an interesting article on gender to be pitched to Yoga Journal?)Meet Dave to see music on Ludlow. Afterward insist on Saving Money by taking the subway. Have often heard, and even used hyperbolic statement that subway platform like a sauna, but tonight, sweat drops off us at alarming rate. Get home in time for rainstorm, which feels lovely as am soaked through anyway. In apartment find large waterbug hanging from ceiling. Tense scene ensues. I am not afraid of the bug at all, but merely want to get it to leave and try to shoo it out the window with a broom. Dave, unfortunately, is afraid. After miscommunication, waterbug flying onto his forehead where it briefly becomes entangled in his hair. After the bug is thrown across the room to the floor. Jenny chases it, but loses her quarry under the bed. I am vociferously blamed. There is a sequence of trying cross-recrmininations until we both get tired of being mad. Read in bed. Turn off lights. Break in weather and benefits of refreshing yoga class cause me to fall asleep immediately where have exciting dreams about extremely rich friends, one of whom was a childhood tennis star (perhaps am also in a movie? There is a lovely feeling of suspense throughout.) Am jolted out of dream by shap inhilation of breath, wake to find Dave sitting bolt upright; join him, and ask What's Wrong. Dave claims that It Touched My Foot, which find hard to believe, but try to be sympathetic. Heart takes a long time to slow.