Oh, Woody Allen. What a love-hate relationship I have with you.
Last night, I was sitting in my soon-to-be furnished room -- the only priorities were the tube and the dvd/vcr player, so I was sitting on the floor -- picking at my dinner, watching a little "Mad Men," even though I'm woefully behind in this season's trajectory.
I had one of those, "Ahhhh, this is all I need" moments. This, and ... this remote control (a la Steve Martin in "The Jerk.")
When, suddenly! Who crawls over, you ask? A cockroach, that's who.
I consider myself to be pretty level-headed, never letting girlish emotions push me to indulging in silly, stereotypical behavior.
But it was as if I were Joe Pesci in "Home Alone," when the tarantula crawls on his chest and Marv starts smacking him with an iron rod.
I jumped and screamed and ran to get Fantastic from the kitchen, my only recourse at the time. I sprayed the bejesus out of him, and even double-shoed him right on his crawly, nasty head.
It made me think of this scene, such a great one from "Annie Hall."
She's recently broken with Woody, she's encountered a huge spider in the bathtub and her first reaction is to call him to come kill it. Of course, he comes (complaining as usual), yet he's scared worse than she is and the foibles are just so great.
Including one of my other favorite scenes from the film, when they're standing in line and Woody can't stand the, pardon me, @sshole standing near them dictating his opinion about some Fellini film. I remember when I first saw it and just thought -- "Yes, he gets it."