After a shortened work day today, Em picked me up (wearing one of my favorite new shirts--with shiny blue guitars on a black background) and we headed home for a quick stop before heading out for some low-key shopping.
Discussing masseuses (mine is fabulous and Em just visited her), dropped internet connections, strange little boys in love with Emily and her (my) guitar shirt in Starbucks, and twilight zone type occurrences from last night, I grabbed some clothes to change from my dressy-ness to a more relaxed feel.
Halfway through dressing, I tossed the t-shirt onto the bed and turned to fix my Internet connection, which once again (7th time in 3 days) had stopped working. When I returned to my abandoned shirt, I saw a white streak across a section of the back. Thinking it was deodorant stain (sorry, it happens) and that I had forgotten to wash the shirt from the last time I wore it, I leaned in for a closer look.
And I was seized by fear. Because it wasn't deodorant. No, it wasn't a stain. It was a thick web. AND there was a stringy spider hanging by a few legs near it. I froze. I couldn't move. My heart started palpitating so fast I thought I was going to throw up, or keel over.
"Emily. Are you afraid of spiders?"
When she answered, "Yes," I realized that I need a man in my life to do things like kill bugs when I'm frozen by fear.
She came to inspect the offender, pronounced him dead, and then said, "Now the question is, does he look like a recluse?" Meaning a Brown Recluse Spider, the deadliest of deadly spiders. Hanging out in my clothes. In my closet. In my bedroom. Trying to kill me in my sleep.
She dumped him into the toilet, even though he was dead. After looking up "brown recluse spider" in Google, we decided he wasn't one. He was just f-ing scary.
Now I have to check all my clothes before I wear them for Brown Recluses and their scary ass cousins. I hate spiders.
3 comments:
That story gripped me with fear. Seventeen irregular hearbeats later, I am now able to place a comment on the story. I never want to read a piece so vivid and descriptive about the evilness that spins web out of bodily fluid and sucks living tissue for food.
Lana, you have a frightened brother to comiserate with. Yikes!
In opposition to your brother here, I have found my loss of words from the inability to place words amongst laughter, tears, and more laughter. This all because of the one conclusion that I have found...this WOULD HAPPEN TO YOU! Haha. Sorry for the seeming inconsideration. Truly I send my sympathy to you and ole' Recluse. But even more so to the T-shirt. What a tragic story to be told if ever placed on a quilt.
A couple weeks ago I found a huge dead centipede in my socks and then a live beetle in a pair of pants. I'm just glad that I sometimes look into my pants before putting them on.
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