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.
And there lies its dead body... RIP... No... Nevermind... Burn forever in a lake of fire and brimstone dirtbag!