day of bugs and the slovak woman

Eleven years ago I wrote a story about a man who was slightly crazy and lived with a praying mantis that had taken up residence on his window sill. Tonight as my friend Angie and I sat on my front steps talking, one of these noble beasts flew across my chest, bounced off her knee, and landed between our feet. She thought I’d thrown down a cigarette. The we stood up and studied the five inch mantis, pale like a wax bean.
Today was a day of nothing significant so maybe it was the day of bugs. This morning while inventorying at the Convention Center I watched a young Iraqi janitor kick a large cockroach across the marble floor like it was a soccer ball. I don’t know why he didn’t step on it. He just kept kicking the cockroach with the inside of his feet, driving it toward some goal, what I don’t know.
Or was it the day of the Slovak woman. A pretty Croatian girl named Yvonna accompanied Bill and I on the inventory today. I said Dorbra din, dorbra jutro – words Janka had taught me. I tried to say naz- the Slovak word for cheers but got it all wrong.
We talked nd she convinced me to go to Croatia to really experience the Adriatic, pristine still from the 50 years of industrial tourism that has plagued the rest of Europe.
We had lunch in the Al Rasheed once again, a nice break from the DFAC. I had a club sandwhich which was good except for the fried egg on top. Bill had a lamb burger and vegetable curry, and Yvonna had mezza salad and half a grilled chicken (on the bone) whixh she slathered with ketchup. Slovaks must love that stuff. Janka put it all over her pizza. She said it was Italian style.
I told Yvonna I’d bring her back to the National Restaurant one night and I’d buy her a bottle of red wine, even if it was French. The best reds around here come out of Lebanon…very dry. But she told me to try Croatian wine too. Okay, twist my arm.