Bitchslapped by a Spider


There's no denying that I'm as blind as a bat without my glasses or contacts. My unaided vision allows me to see globs of roundish shapes, each fuzzy around the edges. Every morning, when I empty my bladder, I kinda just stand in front of the Juan and hope to hallahalla it hits the water. Sometimes I'll hear the snare drumming and steady pitter-patter vibrations of tinkle upon the floor and have to mop it up, which is a pain. But what can I say? I'm blind.

Course, the point of this story wasn't to showcase my hilariously tragic vision deficiencies. It's not for your amusement, sicko. Its purpose was to detail how this condition often impedes my ability to live a normal life. Morning blindness can have serious consequences, mostly when bundled with a phobia of mine.

Imagine if you will, stepping into the bath for your morning shower. All is as it should be with your every morning routine. Rushing water from the spout, step inside, water rains down to cleanse, lather, rinse, repeat. But something compels you to look down at the floor and you see a blackish fluff. Juevos Crickey, it's a spider. After an initial moment of panic, you simply step away from it and direct the water to flush it down the drain.

Unthinkable you say? No! True story! And it's happened several times I might add. But it's not that frightening because the spider stands away from you and they're easy to take care of. If you want to talk frightening, let us discuss this morning.

So I got out of bed, late, and made my way to the sink to brush my teeth and wash my face. I got my washcloth from the towel rack and ran it under the running faucet. Suddenly, something hit me in the left side of my forehead.

"What the hell?" I groggled, backing away from the sink.

I saw what looked like a fluttering bug at chin level. I proceeded to blow it away, but noticed it just kept falling slowly, gracefully. I took a step forward and approached it ever so closely with my face and a giant, ugly, black, stringy spider came into focus. The freakin' devil's crabs as I like to call them. Now, realize how close I had to be to see this thing clearly. I could have probably tapped it with my nose, I was so close.

I shuffled back in a panic as it webbed down and touched base with my counter top. Then it proceeded to prance over the edge and start its descent downward. I watched it, angrily, with the faucet still running. I was paralyzed, but I knew I had to do something. I couldn't just let it get away with what it had done. So I took the nearest object I could find that I didn't care to get spiderguts on, which turned out to be my bright yellow glasses case, and with vengence in my soul and eyes probably wide shut, I pounced that yellow lion onto the cliffhanging bandit!

Only to miss.

There was no friendly squashed eight-legger flattened on the plastic case. There was no longer a blackish fuzzy orb desending the white canyon counter.

I leapt back, expecting the thing to run full force at the blind man who attacked him. I looked up and down the counter, but did not see anything except... MY GLASSES!

I snatched them up and put them on. Scanning... scanning...

But there was no spider lying helpless on the carpet. I pictured a bug on its back, two legs over its head, sighing over-dramatically in agony. "Whoa is me," he'd cry, in a squeakish voice. "Whoa, whoa is me. Sigh. Sigh."

My terror alert jumped up to arach-red. Still scanning... scanning... Heart racing... Water running...

I now had a big Listerine bottle in hand, ready to drill that monster into the carpet fibers.

Alas, it was nowhere to be found; not under the two bags of garbage waiting to be taken out of my washroom; not beneath the bulk supply of Lever 2000 soap bars next to the door; not near the empty Waterpick box under the sink (we threw out that broken Waterpick long ago; why do we still have the freakin' box?!).

Whoa is me.

I can't go back. I know he'll be there, waiting. Next time, I know he'll successfully land on my head and suck my brains out. Or perhaps lay his babies in my pores. And when they hatch next Spring, I'll look like Seal. Although, with this Summer's breakout of acne, I'm about two zits away from looking like Seal. Hey, at least some chicks like Heidi Klum dig pimples. They finds it zexy!

I can only hope there are supermodels who find "death by spider" zexy as well.


Paralyzed and paranoid and parafied of ¡espideres!

Ricky
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