I don't know if this is an experience unique to this part of the east coast, but every house or apartment I've ever lived in has had crickets. When I was a kid living in Silver Spring, they were terrifying. They only came out at night, they looked sinister, and they did these ridiculous Michael Jordan jumps that left you wondering if they might accidentally leap onto you. I didn't have an aversion to bugs at all, but my old basement looked scary in the dark anyway (there were hutches and storage spaces and utility rooms full of junk that just looked like something when you were six), so it didn't help that these creatures seemed nocturnal. My brother and I used to argue over who was going to go downstairs to retrieve forgotten action figures after it got dark.
Nowadays, I admit I have a fondness for them. Yuko's own fondness is less nostalgia and more that she just likes critters, and she's militant about putting bugs outside (rather than stompin' on them). Still, the cricket problem at the apartment had been trying even her considerable patience. It wasn't an infestation, and they actually disappeared with winter, but for a while there she was scooping up precisely one cricket every night and taking it downstairs to be let out. We got the feeling it might have been the same one.