My fear all started when I was a little boy. Vulnerable, and much closer to the size of a spider. I was on every little kids favorite field trip. A trip to the Butterfly Pavilion. Oh butterflies, how I loved them. So peaceful and friendly and not-arachnid like. I looked forward to seeing them fly above my head; however, my teacher, in an loosely-symbolic attempt to cure racism, decided that ALL insects deserved our attention and admiration. "Whether they be black, or white, or yellow, or hideous and deadly, it didn't matter because everyone and everything was equal!" She would say with a subtle jab at Hitler.
So I was dragged away from the Butterfly door with painted rainbows and smiling suns and forced to face the Spider room. 'Fine', thought I, 'I'm a boy, I'm supposed to like these better anyways!' At least until I saw one crawling across the hands of a "Trainer" woman. A big hairy freak from Space that probably crash landed on this planet and single-handedly destroyed the dinosaurs.
'F THIS!' thought I coolly, as I began to back away from the monster. But no, the Spider lady would not be denied. No more children would leave her for the lowly butterfly trainer woman, NO! She called me back, and I was forced to endure her attempt to brainwash me into thinking the freakish being was just misunderstood, not dangerous, but my instincts knew otherwise. Regardless, I, being young, fell for her temptation and allowed the alien creature to crawl across my hand. I hated it, but it was over quickly and no physical damage was done. So she let me go.
I was then shepherded to a see a rare species of Spider, a breed of Venezuelan Jumping Spider that can jump several inches or even a few feet. Yes... Jump... Once again, I found myself front and center to prove to the other children that the spider really can jump and was put in front of the smaller, but no less formidable beast. We stared at each other, our mutual hatred clearly visible. And then it was gone! I heard a gasp from the audience and then applause. My confusion increased wondering what sort of magic trick this lady had performed that was able to get rid of the spider and hoping she would teach it to all of us. It was then I looked on my sleeve and found him there, challenging me.
Needless to say I screamed like Tanner Hall with broken ankles (well worth a youtube trip) and swatted at my enemy throwing him hurtling towards the ground. The 'trainer' was visually upset at me, even scolded me! To this day I can't believe this! She sent her best attack, so I sent mine. How is that not fair? I was in trouble for overreacting, but a freaking deadly Venezuelan terror had attached itself to me! Its not even like I killed it or anything, despite best efforts... To add to this horror, I threw up all over the floor upon finally entering the butterfly room, having all my built up nerves release. Then they shuttled me back to the bus to sit alone as all the other children had butterflies fly all around them...So I believe my intense fear comes from that fateful day. Every Spider I approach I fear lest it will be a Jumping spider, which evidently account for "about 13% of all species" (Thank you Wikipdia.org - Jumping Spider for providing that terrifying fact).
Oh but my ridiculously long story doesn't end there. No no no. Our hero, yours truly (feel free to picture me in a gleaming suit of armor), has yet to vanquish the world of the terrifying foe. This brings me to last week and another long story.
I was doing a job for a friend which required me to move all the rocks in her garden-like hill, rake out all the pine needles, and then put all the rocks back. They were big ol' rocks too! I was so tired that night... Anyways, turns out that Spiders kinda liked the rocks and pine needles the way they were. So it was war. But I came prepared with a Spider's greatest nemesis..es....s... GLOVES! Whahahahaha! Sure enough, almost every rock I picked up had some sorta spider on the other side. Most were daddy long legs, that are like pawns, pretty much useless in war unless used properly, which of course they weren't. But nearing the end, I found their King:
Yeah... Gross... Probably roots for the Red Wings too... Grosser... Somewhere around 3 inches from leg tip to leg tip. And sending me running to the bottom of the hill with my heart racing... But I knew what I must do. In a courageous charge, I grasped the rock that once hid the beast and in a moment of satisfying irony, used the monster's shelter to crush it. Success! I then smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me and I strayed out of Space and Time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end, I felt life in me again... (allusion to LOTR present in this paragraph, if you can find it, let me know and I'll give you your prize! You do of course also have to name the director, film, time of film referenced, character name and actor referenced, and exactly what it means and how it applies to this post.)
And there lies its dead body... RIP... No... Nevermind... Burn forever in a lake of fire and brimstone dirtbag!
And there lies its dead body... RIP... No... Nevermind... Burn forever in a lake of fire and brimstone dirtbag!Still, every night in bead, I fear the return of this Spider, and when the wind blows my sheets funny across my back, often leap out of bed, run to turn on my light, and beat the daylights out of my bed with my canoe paddle I recently bought as a solution. The problem is this canoe paddle is never present in my dreams, which, since this most recent job, have been spider infested many a night. Worst of all my subconscious has gotten creative and occasionally grants them the gift of flight... Yes, flying spiders, spiders with wings. There is nothing more terrifying. And without my trusty canoe paddle, I don't much stand a chance against their organized forces.
Spiders suck... Go America!
