Friday, August 6, 2010

When Spiders Attack

Before we begin, may I remind you to become a fan on Facebook if you so choose, so you can get updates on my updates.

I need to ask you guys something, to find out if I am normal or not. [Insert *Oh, Emily, you’re NEVER normal! HAR!* joke here]

I understand that I am mainly alone in my irrational fear of whales.
And I understand that, while some also believed it was “making ends meat,” in the end, I was wrong.

But tell me I’m not alone on this one: Spiders while you are naked are 500 times scarier than spiders at any other time.

I alluded to this fear during a 'My Monday' comic. Yes, it’s all hilarious when I am a stick-figure. But seriously that morning I almost gave myself a heart attack. CORRECTION: That spider sneaking up on me all quiet-like and drinking my shower water almost gave me a heart attack.

I guess it’s just the whole vulnerability factor? I don’t know, I can’t quite place it. But...okay. Let me take you back in time.

In college, while I was still with Teenage Boyfriend, I decided to take a break from our Family Guy-and-campus-food marathon to shower. I’m in there, minding my own biz, when I look up and lo and behold, a spider on the ceiling. Whimpering but with shampoo in my hair and no feasible means of escape, I watch the spider, unblinking and trembling. And that’s when it happens.

The spider moves.

Not only does it move, but it moves TOWARD ME. And of course the ceiling is all moist from condensation, so the spider is walking on shaky ground. It lifts one leg and seems to dangle there for a moment. So I did what any God-and-spider-fearing person would do: I splashed water toward it. I was hoping this would send the message to the spider of, “Hey now. Back off. There is more where this came from and I am not afraid to drown you.”

APPARENTLY the message sent was, “Hey, friend! Wanna play tag? YOU'RE IT!” The spider crawled closer. And closer.

And at this point, I’m not afraid to admit it. I screamed. Yes, screamed. Because a spider had taken maybe 3 steps closer to me.

Teenage Boyfriend called through the door, “Are you okay?”

Through my tears I managed to call out, “Sss...sp...spider...”

“Are you serious?”

I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door, looking not-unlike this (minus the hook and mustache)

TB grabbed a wad of toilet paper, reached up, and got the bugger. My hero. I returned to my shower, shaking mildly from the memories.

A second story. This time, I am living on the 1st floor in Chicago. Sadly, this is before I had spider-killing foster Super Kitty. I am alone. I am alone, and on the toilet. When I stand up, what do I see on the tank behind me?


But not even a regularly enormous spider, but a spider with legs the length of a small crane. It is like the queen bee of Daddy Long Legs.

Which means:
1) That spider was like ONE inch away from me while I was half-naked and it probably saw all my bits and is making a mental note to tell all its friends about it.
2) It could have reached out and touched me *shudder, shudder*
3) Now I have an uncrushable spider, because its legs are so long, they will crunch. CRUNCH, PEOPLE. I DO NOT KILL THINGS THAT CRUNCH.

But I can’t just let this spider hang out. Something that was that close to me SHALL NOT be allowed to come near me again. And I also can’t kill it. And I can’t ask my boyfriend to squish it because at this point I was dating The Irishman and he was all living in Ireland and such. And I couldn’t make Sara do it because she was away being an actress.

So it is Emily v. Spider. What can I do? OH! I know. I can put it in some kind of receptacle and take it outside. Genius.

I run to the kitchen and grab some expendable Tupperware (because God knows I’m throwing that bowl away once this spider has touched it) and I slam it over the spider, who has now moved onto the wall. Except...crap. I forgot to get a cover for the Tupperware.

So now I am standing like this

And I have no escape. I can’t move the Tupperware, because now the spider is hip to my scheme (mraaah, see) and will quickly run and hide while I go find a top. Luckily, and mysteriously, I actually had some packing tape nearby. I don’t know what it was doing in my bathroom. I assume I was making funny faces in the mirror with it. But it was there nonetheless. So I do what any normal person would do: I tape the Tupperware to the wall and text Sara to get home because it’s an EMERGENCY.

Sara comes storming in like a bat out of hell, rushing through the apartment yelling "WHERE?! WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU NEED?!"

I whimpered in a tiny-yet-terrified voice from the bathroom, "In here!"

Sara runs over, sees the situation, rolls her eyes in a World Award-Winning eye roll, and disposes of the spider properly for me. My hero.

So this is where I stand in the World of Spiders:
-If I am clothed, the spider is terrifying.
-If I am naked, the spider will potentially kill me and my unborn children.
-If the SPIDER is clothed, it is...hilarious?



Dan Pearce said...

Haha, love the post. Yes, any bug is 500 times worse when you're butt naked! Speaking of bugs, last night I was sitting at my computer when I felt something bite m clear up by my knee. I freaked out and shook my pants out and a huge BEETLE fell out of my pant leg! I'm pretty sure I screamed like a girl.

Single Dad Laughing

elena said...

You're totally right about any bug being worse when you're naked. When we had our horrible apartment in DC, there was a huge hole in the floor underneath the tub and creepy crawlies used to come out of it. (this being DC, the CCs include palmetto bugs, aka giant fucking roaches). I used to make Gary check the floor for me before I went in to take a bath and again before I would get out.

*side note: I had never seen a roach before we lived in DC, and so I believed him when he said they were just a big Southern-type water bug. Then my mom came to visit and saw him disposing of one on my behalf.
mom: Jesus, that's the biggest fucking cockroach I've ever seen.
elena: No, it's a water bug. They live all over the place here.
mom: You know that water bug is another term for cockroach, don't you?
elena: You mean I have cockroaches?
gary: I was hoping you wouldn't find out.

kay said...

Emily, it's genetic! I was that way about centipedes! I wouldn't go down the hallway if I saw one on the ceiling because if I tried to get passed it, it would disappear! I was positive it jumped down on me as I passed!

Aunt Kay

Jon Skulemowski said...

Once upon a time, when Native Americans still lived in Illinois, the area where Chicago is now was completely wooded. Spiders lived everywhere and it was heaven for them. Years later when someone decides to put houses on top of that same land, the spiders got together and decided to rebel. They would not budge from their land or go gently into that good night. As a result, in Illinois, you are never more than 10 feet from a spider of some kind.

Don't shoot the messenger.

Adrienne said...

this weekend i went home to visit the 'rents.
lo and behold, as i'm taking some TP off the roll, as you do -> a fucking spider FALLS OUT THE THING.
i screamed.

i couldn't even wash my hands in there. i ran the hell out after flushing and washed them in the kitchen sink while my mom is like "...really?"

Kristin said...

the worst, by far, is having to shower in a campground public shower. you know ... with all the creepy crawlies huddled in the corners and dangling from the ceiling over your head. and even worse than spiders are the moths. oh, the moths. they're like drunk butterflies. they can't fly straight -- especially when they get all wet from the shower condensation -- so they end up flying right into you leaving all the nasty moth dust on you. blechhhhh. i'm shuddering right now just thinking of it.

also, i saw a centipede last night while doing laundry in the basement of my apartment. scouts' honor, the first thing that came to mind was: "was that a bug or a mouse?" it was that big. i have never run up those stairs as fast as a did last night.

ooh, one last one. [so many good bug stories!] at camp saugatuck one year for family camp, elizabeth threw a huge hissy fit after seeing a giant grasshopper leap out of our newly-opened window. we were staying in one of the old beach-front cabins. within hours, we were sleeping in one of the super nice cabins back in the woods ... with the entire devries family. ha. guess it pays to make a huge deal of bugs?

gorsky said...

I would like the see the award for that eye-roll. Should I start listing that in my resume, too?