New Roommate

This hobo has another companion to welcome her home every night. His name is Paco. He likes to lie under the skinny chest or the radiator, and he likes the scent of bleach misting on him like a light, clean rain.

He scuttled in on Tuesday as I was enjoying my fourth of July dinner with the dog while watching a Korean film that I vaguely remembered seeing last August. I lost my appetite upon seeing him, as I jumped up wanting to greet him properly (with a To Be Read Business Week sitting patiently atop a pile of other magazines), but he didn't seem to want to be greeted, nor did he want some of my excess reading material, as he dashed for the chest and remained there, quivering, silent as though dead, though I entreated him to come out with some hearty slaps on the floor.

Last night, I grilled chicken and made pasta primavera, hoping to entice Paco into joining me. But he was gone, quietly, a thief in the night.

However, this morning as I ushered the dog out for her morning run, I saw Paco's nose quivering by the door. How could it be? But yes, it was he! So I took the aforementioned Business Week and pounded after him, slapping him a good ten times with it. He fled under the radiator, and my repeated attempts to get him out with the Swiffer only strengthened his resolve to remain under there.

And so now I have two unpaying roommates, and I, Tiresias, am currently suffering from a very bad case of hives. I wanted to end our time together in a nice, eco-friendly way, but I may have to break out the Raid tonight after I watch The Devil Wears Prada. I almost hoped at times that my dog would find Paco and eat him, but she really does, weirdly enough, have champagne tastes.