I’m not one of those people who hates spiders. I actually think they are quite useful and industrious creatures, and they spin beautiful webs. That being said, all bets are off if one is ON ME. Then, we have a little chat. Something along the lines of “Omigod! Get off me!” with a swat to the outside. If it’s BIG? It’s a swear, followed by a splat. The end. When I first met my husband’s parents in Vancouver, he warned me that there were sometimes large spiders lurking in the basement.
Where we would be sleeping.
“Um, Ok…..”I said. “What kind of spiders?”
“Wolf Spiders,” he said, with a shudder. He does not like spiders very much. That’s maybe putting it mildly. “They are brown and sort of furry and if they’re really big you can see their EYEBALLS.”
Now, that was just silly! How big could they really be?
“Ha ha ha!” I laughed. Well, as long as they aren’t in the bed with me, I don’t really care!”
I awoke the next morning refreshed, and rolled out of bed. I was about to wake my husband up when I noticed…a large, dark thing. At some point, one of the humongous furry things had decided to crawl into bed with me, unwisely deciding to rest its head on the pillow. With my head. Or maybe my face. It was not small, and resembled a hieroglyph of a man running, only with way more legs, running really fast away from something.
“Holy Shit!” I yelled, waking my husband up.
He looked where I was looking and yelled as well. More obscenities I think. Anyway, it was a crash course in what living in the rainforest can produce. Big. F@%&ing. Spiders.
We’ve had several run in’s with this particular variety, and it’s lesser-known cohort the “house spider”. House spiders are out right now, looking for mates to hunker down with. Fair enough, who isn’t, it’s getting cold outside. But SEEING one of these things when you aren’t expecting it can absolutely throw you. In your mind, spiders should not resemble small tarantulas. And yes, I know some of you in Australia are saying, BIG DEAL. But you know what? I don’t live in Australia, because there I would be afraid of spiders, and snakes, and sharks, and box jellies, and scary lizards, and…you get it. I can be brave when I live here. I’m brave, dammit! BRAVE!
My old neighbor used to have me deal with her spider problems. This I got, as she had a bona fide phobia, so consuming that she was studied at UBC. As in, “we need to research you, you are so damn afraid of spiders.” She’d call, and with a hoarse whisper urgently request my presence. “Spider….behind THE FRIDGE! COME NOWwwww” and trail off….
I’m starting to get it. We recently stayed in Victoria, and I was ambushed by a house spider. I say ambushed, because I might have let it outside, had I not first mistaken it for a mouse. I’m sorry, you are WAYYYY too big. I don’t want you to reproduce. I know there is a statue of buddha in the garden and I really should be kind and release you. But instead I smashed that thing as hard as I could. And then it twitched and tried to get away again, like some sort of cyborg-terminator-spider. So the second coming was unleashed and then it was scant more than a pile of legs. It left me sort of sad, but also very, very relieved. (oh look, heres one now!)
My husband once left me a note that only read, “Actual Size” with a reproduced drawing of an enormous spider. It was on the floor of the bathroom, so I imagine that is where the incident happened, much like a crime scene outline. The large ones seem to find him, like cats who know the people who are allergic and come and sit on their laps. One even fell on his face in the middle of the night. He told me he felt something large bounce off his forehead, as he was falling asleep, and decided that could not be ignored. He switched on the light and I said, “Whats going on? “ in a pissed off, I-am-sleeping sort of voice. “Spider!” he yelled, pointing out the thing running towards me.
AGHHHHHHggghhhAGhHH we both yelled and vacated the bed, me smacking it repeatedly. No time to think, really. It was a knee jerk reaction, and death was the outcome. Sorry!
So, now that I am admitting I’m starting not to like them, one has decided to target me. You know you’ve been bitten when there is a conga line of little itchy bites on your leg, little raised spots of soreness that meant something bit you, rested and moved a few centimetres, bit you again, emailed his friends, sauntered down a bit further and bit you once more before jumping off to find something else to do. So imagine my surprise a few days ago. It was a rare morning when the shower came first, and I was looking forward to it, except, hey! The hot water actually hurts a bit! I think something must have bitten me! Only, hey! This is on my left butt-cheek! So that means, um…(moment of exploration, three bites leading directly to the back door) HOLY SHIT holy shit oh no oh no that means, that means, there was a spider on my ass, near, my, WHatthehell was it doing there? Taking a nap in a warm place? Judas Priest… I began swearing and pacing at the same time. This was bad. Had it been hiding in the underwear drawer? Can a person put on underwear and not KNOW there is a spider inside? I had not been drinking, so that rules out inebriation. Tiredness? No. I went to inspect the bed, the underwear. These still had some elastic in them so that basically means I somehow saran-wrapped a spider to my own ass. AGghhhhagaghh! I ran around the house doing useless things like shaking my arms and stomping. And then I thought, oh well. There’s nothing to be done now. But no body means no death….and I am looking for this one. EVERY night until I find it. And some harmless bystander spider might get caught up in the crossfire, but that’s the way it’s gotta be, my tiny friends.Get back outside, back away from my ass, or there’s gonna be blood, and very little of it will be my own.