Weary from the road, I am savoring a double-room to myself and think I’ll treat myself to a long shower and give myself a little facial. How girlie.  Well, I am about to see just how girlie I can be in one night.

As I smear the sticky ‘peel-off’ masque goo on my face, I turn to shut the bathroom door behind me. Turn back to the mirror. Annoyingly, the door opens. I look in the room to double-check that I am indeed alone. No one there (phew). I close the door again, and turn to face the mirror. Now where was I? Oh yes… I dab at the finishing touches of the blue goo as the door swings open yet again, hitting my back and making me jump, startled. This is creepy.

Looking again at the dark interior of the room, I see nothing. The fan has extinguished my candle and the light is off. My heart skips a beat; but I am also getting annoyed… is this a draft from the fan? Is there a ghost in my room? Do I need to lock the bathroom door when I’m in a room by myself? This seems ridiculous. I shut the door more firmly this time, determined to keep it that way short of actually locking it.

Just as I let go of the door, I leap back when I see a HUGE… insect(?) moving above me. It’s coming from the crack between the door and door frame at the top. Imagine a giant earwig 8 inches long and 3-4 inches wide (including legs) with the coloring of a scorpion, running wayyyy too fast along your doorway, towards you in fact as the door swings open (again). You are standing in your birthday suit with sticky blue goo on your face. A very vulnerable position, indeed.

“What-the-&!*$-is-that-what-the-&!*$-is-THAT!!?” I say to no one in particular. ‘Ok, stay calm, stay calm’ – I cover myself with a towel in the face of this new company and back up as I wait to see where it will run and, more importantly, stop.

It decides to rest on top of the door. Its legs straddle both sides and its body rests on top. I can see a giant twin stinger thing at the end of its body, poised and ready. It is PISSED – I had shut the door on it 3 times!

Once it stops, I run into the room and throw on my nearest dirty clothes. Now, what to do? I imagine every creature I’ve killed while girlfriends stood by in terror. ‘Come on, you can kill it. You’ve killed many a beastie…’  But not like this. I know it will take more than one solid whack to kill it, and I’ve already witnessed it’s speed. I don’t think I can do it! I will freak out as it runs toward me with its stinger pointed ahead. I need (gulp).. a BOY. Yes, I admit… swallowing my pride I realize… I need a BOY to come kill this for me.

Yeah… I just need to wait until my masque is finished…

Seriously – I can’t go back into the bathroom at this point, where Mr. Beastie awaits, and try to wash this sticky un-washable goo off my face as he JUMPS from the door (as he surely would) onto my back and attacks me. No, I must wait the appointed 15 minutes and peel the thing off and then go find me a BOY. Why did I choose the peel-off type of masque this time around?!

I sit on the bed and get up every 2 minutes to check that Mr. Beastie hasn’t moved from his spot. If he moves and I can’t find him, I’m going to another hotel – not another room, another HOTEL. With a room on the SECOND FLOOR.

He hasn’t moved. OK, great. Feel the masque.. still gooey. This is the longest 15 minutes of my life. So much for a relaxing facial.

Finally it’s reasonably dry and I peel it off, looking sideways to ensure Mr. Beastie is in fact standing still, which he is. I run outside and thankfully find the guy who runs the front desk of my guesthouse. He’s coming back from town with some buddies. I don’t think he knows what hits him as I run toward him with a frightened, urgent look on my face, (dabbing it now and then to make sure there aren’t any embarrassing blue globs that I missed, which I’m sure there were).

“Um, excuse me… um there’s a HUGE SCORPION in my room.. uhhh..”

He looks at me blankly.

OK, uh, uh…. language barrier. Language barrier… Um.. I have a PROBLEM” ..I glance at my room. He follows my gaze.

Still blank.

I clear a section of dirt with my shoe and draw something that looks more like a mouse with tentacles than a scorpion or giant earwig or whatever the hell the thing is. The point is made – he knows he has to kill something. He nods and I motion back to my room. As we near my door he grabs a broom. Perfect.

I lead him toward the bathroom, but stop short of going in, pointing up toward the door. He steps in and looks at the walls, the ceiling… He’s not seeing it!!  He steps in further, dangerously close to The Beast and starts pointing the broomstick toward the far corner of the ceiling, just past the door. I firmly grab his shoulder and pull him back.  He’s getting too close. I step closer and point until my finger is only a foot away from The Beast.

He jumps back, now completely tense, and we share a frightened look. We share the fear, and I’m not feeling as sissy-ish as before. :) Well, except that I go stand on the BED as he gives the thing one good hard whack and it falls, flailing and running in mid-air, to the floor. As I’d suspected, one isn’t enough. He takes the broom handle like a baseball bat and proceeds to beat the hell out of The Beast. It keeps moving and twisting (and I’m screaming from the sidelines). Finally he takes the tip of the broom handle down and puts 100% of the force on its head, smashing it down several times as the tail flails about from right to left.

All in all it takes about 20 beatings to kill the thing, and it’s still twitching from rigor mortis as he starts looking at my garbage can as a disposal container. From the bed I say “no, that goes outside” and point to the front door. He laughs and sweeps it outside. I thank him profusely and follow him to the doorway, making sure he sweeps it WELL away from the threshold.

He looks at me and says “Only one?”
This confirms my greatest fear. “They travel in PAIRS?”
He looks at me blankly.
OK, um… “Are there usually more than one?” I say while doing the scuba sign for buddy, drawing both my index fingers together and making a do you understand what I’m saying here kind of face.
Still nothing.

I pull him inside again and we look for whatever friends this thing might have. Nothing. Great, ok. Now I can go to sleep. Or can I?

You know how when you see a spider and turn the lights out, you feel like there are spiders crawling on you? Yeah.
Sweet dreams.

P.S. I did a search on “Giant Scorpion Earwig Mutant” and actually found the critter – it was a centipede. Never seen one this big.  I wanted to take a picture, but was too worried the flash would freak it out and it would leap on me and eat me alive. Sorry. ;) So you’ll have to go with the one below for reference.

Giant Centipede, from Thaibugs.com