About 15 years ago I moved to Miami, Florida from Vermont. I had vaguely heard of the mythic reputation of cockroaches there but, having lived in New York, I expected small stuff. One evening, shortly after moving in, I was sitting in my living room and I heard this buzz. I looked up and it was a freaking flying cockroach!!! Huge. It was an archetypal beast, evil, too big to be natural, it had to be satanic. I'm like, oh my God, these #*(%ing things fly?! I run to grab a magazine and kill it for violating my personal space. Well, it turns and flys directly at my face. I screamed like a girl and flipped onto my bed, fell on the floor, spastically swinging my magazine in self defense. Those damned cockroaches in that apartment were viscious, evil. They would come out and stare at me wondering what the heck I was doing in THEIR apartment! And they didn't even pay the rent. I got a cat to hunt them. Well I got so disturbed that his hunting was a 24 hour activity--and he didn't always win. I moved out. Escaped to the desert in Albuquerque, NM, and now live roach free. Now I only have to deal with scorpions and crickets the size of rats.