I acted rather hastily on impulse

Spiders are like scarves: I like the idea behind them, but I don’t want one around my neck.

I appreciate that they can be used for natural pest control. However, what I object to is the fact that they look as if they come from Mars and have blood made of liquid evil. I’m also not pleased to find them crashing in my apartment.

Most of the little moochers have the decency to either keep out of sight or stand still for weeks on end until we believe that they are dead.

Early one morning, one spider forgot his place and the order of things inside the apartment.

It was about five in the morning when I saw something crawling across the back of the couch while I was reading for class. There is a certain primitive impulse in many people to move away from black things moving across the back of the couch in a room they are supposed to be alone in. I acted rather hastily on impulse.

I looked to see what it was, but couldn’t find it on the back of the couch until my face was within jumping distance. I decided to give it space for a while, and after 15 minutes I came back to look for it again. It was gone.

I picked up my jacket from the arm of the couch only to find that the spider had crawled inside. It fell out, landed in between my shoes, and crawled inside the left sneaker. It was like watching from the shore as a ship burned in the middle of a storm at sea. It was as if I were the only person in the audience of a circus with rabid tigers and plague infected clowns blocking the exits of the tent.

It was the most helpless feeling.

Six hours later I was in Rhetorical Theory in my rain boots, plotting to freeze the plastic bag that held my spider-infected shoe when I got home. Before I could carry out my plan, my roommate intervened on behalf of the spider and promised she would remove it for me.

Several days later, she vacuumed out the inside of my shoe. The spider was never seen again and is believed to be currently at large in my apartment. My roommate has affectionately given him the code name “Freud.”

The spiders must learn their place. It’s either out the door or under my shoe, not inside.

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