Spiders

28 May

Dear Spiders,

You give me the heebee geebees. I don’t mind if you share the same universe as me, just please, stay out of my sight.

Love,

Allergic to you. xo

This is the closest thing to a spider that I’ll allow on my page. Seriously. They terrify me with their skinny hairy legs and juice filled tummies. Gross.

I’ve been terrified of spiders since childhood. Spiders and butterflies.

You: Butterflies???

Me: That’s right.  Butterflies, okay? I had a vivid only-child imagination. I thought that since they fly, they must sting, like every other flying insect-type  thingy that was in my backyard.  Still, to this day, I flinch when I see one.

Anyhoo, right up until I moved out of my childhood home, whenever I spotted a creepy crawly eight-legged beady-eyed thing, I’d reach for my trusty can of hairspray, and glue that sucker to the wall.  I’d wait for my dad to get home so he could clean it up. He would huff and puff and his eyes would roll so much I thought they’d roll right out of his head.

You: Uhm, wow. That’s kind of evil.

Me: I’m aware.

I can’t even kill the things with a kleenex.  I can’t step on them. Just the thought of their juices squirting out makes me want to vomit.

Last weekend I was at a house that is literally on a mountain in a massive forest in North Carolina. Everything was just peachy, until it rained. Those little hairy legged suckers came out of the woodwork faster than I could say, ‘get me another beer’.

Before I went to sleep I noticed one large black spider the size of my palm on my sliding patio door. It was on the outside, but it didn’t matter.  There was no way I was sleeping with those beady eyes staring back at me.  I went up to examine him, and it seemed he was chowing down on his appetizer. Convinced that he had it in for me, I slid the other side of the door and knocked him off. He stayed on the deck, ready for battle. I told him in my firmest of voices that he better get the hell out of here.

You: Ha. You actually talked to the thing?

Me: You better believe it.  It went a little something like, ‘hey little buddy, get the hell off my deck or else it’ll be a gruesome death! That’s right, I’m talking to you.’

He listened, and scattered away.  That was the beginning of my microscopic inspection of every corner of my room.  After threatening the rest of the lurking spiders, I promptly downed many a beer and fell into a peaceful, spiderless slumber.

You:  That’s probably not the best solution.

Me:  Wow.  If you wouldn’t have pointed that out, I never would have known.  Thank you for that moment of enlightenment. Breathtaking, really.

You:  Holy foul mood, batman.

Me:  That’s batwoman to you.

Literally, as I’m writing this, a fucking tiny spider slid down on it’s stupid string and landed on my desk. I jumped so far out of my chair, forgot to use my ‘inside voice’ and instead blurted a bunch of vulgar terms that would better be suited for a truck driver.  Good thing the office is deserted today.

You: You’re writing this at work?

Me: I would never dream of doing such a thing.

It’s quite obvious that spiders have a master plan to destroy me.  My hairspray cans are ready for battle.

It’s on.

Give errrr!

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