I hate spiders.
Remember that line. There will be a quiz later.
So this past summer I had the great idea of piling into a minivan with 6 other people (5 of them children) and driving 11 hours to Virginia where it was 107 degrees in the friggin shade for a "vacation."
Smart be me not best of my characteristics, yo.
The place we stayed in had a jacuzzi room right off the living room and master bedroom. The jacuzzi was basically monopolized by said children so by the time my girlfriend and I had time to actually get into the damn thing, we were too exhausted because we had been scolding/chasing/yelling at the kids since, like, 6 am each morning and OHMYGOD WILL YOU STOP TOUCHING YOUR SISTER YOU ARE MAKING HER SCREAM AND JESUS CHRIST YOU'RE 10 YEARS OLD GET YOUR OWN GODDAMN CEREAL.
So that was fun.
On our very last night, though, the GF and I managed to grab some beers and hop into the thing for a few minutes. We did what adults in a jacuzzi are supposed to do...which is watch our bathing suits fill up with bubbles and then squish them really fast and make giant bathing suit farts with them and then laugh uncontrollably because we're 8.
Good times. Good times.
After that fun was over, I climbed out of the thing and was about to step onto the floor when I saw it.
About two feet in front of me was a spider and it was not the run-of-the-mill Ruben Studdard Ninja spider that I wrote about before, NO.
This one was BIGGER.
OH. Remember that thing I mentioned earlier?
I hate spiders.
Give yourself 5 points if you remembered that little tidbit.
But this spider wasn't an ordinary spider, NO! This spider was wearing Nike Pumps and a track suit and I'm pretty sure had gold teeth and was curling a fairly large rock while kissing his 6 biceps one at a time.
Fine. So it wasn't EXACTLY a tarantula but it was, like, the size of a dinner plate as long as we're talking about dinner plates for Barbie.
So of course I did what anyone would do in this situation which was scream like a little bitch and immediately jump 6 feet into the air and back onto the jacuzzi.
Please note that in the picture above, my 'helpless girlfriend' is actually 'hysterically laughing girlfriend' because I'm basically running around with my vagina completely out.
Regardless, the sound of my high pitch yodeling apparently sent the spider into some sort of frenzy because I watched - in sheer horror - as he back-flipped and roundhouse-kicked his way over to the far wall and then just hung out as he lit up a Marlboro.
Not a Marlboro Light, either. In fact, it was probably an unfiltered Camel.
The timing was right as this spacing allowed me to run past him - and by run I mean OHMYGODOHMYGOD RUN RUN RUN LIKE THE WIND - and grab approximately 400 pieces of toilet paper in which to try to smush him if, you know, I could get the balls to actually try to do it.
After a few minutes of psyching myself up in the mirror and touching my nipples, I gathered my composure and came back into the room.
This spider movement, of course, prompted me to immediately piss myself.
Undaunted in killing this beast, however, I approached him..ignoring my own whimpers and trickling urine...as he moved toward the sliding glass door and went UNDER THE BLINDS ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, GIANT SPIDER?! UNDER. THE. BLINDS?!?
I sense an ambush coming.
Not from me. HIM.
So I kind of barely touch the blinds to see where he is and BAM off goes that giant motherfucker running across the room with his 8 legs flailing like he's juggling flies and now my girlfriend is actually crying laughing hysterically at my ABSOLUTE TERROR but the joke is actually on her because I'm totally making her clean up the pile of shit I just dropped on the floor.
At this point I see, out of the corner of my eye, a second tool to use in my arsenal:
With 16 pounds of toilet paper in one hand and an empty bottle of Sam Adams Summer Ale in the other (the preceding is not a paid endorsement..sadly) I somehow manage the intestinal fortitude to leap at the spider and mash a giant wad of shit paper on it.
With it now covered in toilet paper with no obvious escape except to eat it's way out I begin beating that motherfucker with the beer bottle like he's Rodney King violating a traffic law.
After about ten minutes of this I stand back, amazed that this bottle is actually still in tact because, seriously, I was really hammering on that thing like I was trying to push it to China.
On a related note, if I was on a deserted island and could eat one food forever, I would choose beef teriyaki.
Sorry. The China thing made me think of teriyaki.
With extreme caution I flip the giant wad of mashed paper over fully expecting a scene out of Alien where it jumps up and attaches to my face but, nope...
*insert 5 minutes of Irish step-dancing here*
I then flushed the spider and the 6 trees it was wrapped in down the toilet.
Then I did it again..you know, just to be safe.
Maybe one more.
What if he's still there? Crawling up the pipes like a zombie spider seeking revenge?!
One more flush.
I flushed that mother four frigging times..just to be safe.
Then I used the other bathroom the rest of the night when I had to go.
Can never ever be too safe.
I hate spiders.
Not sure I mentioned that.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
I hate spiders.