I, as a rule, do not mind creepy crawly. Once I had a june bug on me and that freaked me out and made me scream, but bugs and spiders and worms and snakes do not bother me. Unless they sneak up on me. Cicadas bother me. Those are bugs. But those are bugs that croak and swarm and get in your hair. And the folds and cuffs and creases in your jeans so that you can be minding your own business in the backseat of your affianced in-laws and a hitchhiking cicada buzzes and you scream so loud you almost cause a wreck.
But! For the most part, creepy-crawly is okay. Snakes are interesting. So are exotic cockroaches and millipedes and the little silver trilobyte things that crawl out of the ground when you dig it up. And so are spiders mostly.
When spiders aren’t cool is when they try to share the shower with you. They’re also not cool when you get out of the shower and they keep on trying to share your personal space, because you’re evidently well liked in the spider community. Or at least the spider community that hangs out in your bathroom.
I was in the shower this morning, as I am every morning, doing my thing. I don’t know what everybody elses shower habits are, but as much as I need vision correction to do most things, I don’t wear glasses or contacts in there. I know the shampoo bottle is tall, the soap is white, the washcloth hangs from the bar, and it gets hotter if you turn the lever to the left. So there isn’t a lot of detail in my shower. I, like I assume many women do, prop a foot up into a corner of the tub to shave my legs. So I did that this morning. I set my foot into the corner under the shelf that holds the shampoo and soap and leaned over to start shaving my legs.
And came face to face with a really large spider, crawling quickly back up into his web. I was started and jerked back. And promptly lost sight of it, because it was too small and shower-colored to see without glasses. I decided I could live with a bit of stubble and resolved to clean the tub well tonight.
Got out of the shower, and proceeded with the rest of my ablutions. There is drying and deodorizing and dusting with a nice talc. So I’m going through that routine, the first part of which is to put some contacts in. And just as I’m about to starting the part with dusting powder, I noticed something in my peripheral vision. I move my head back so I can focus on it and it’s the spider! Dropping down on its thread of silk, just in the middle of the room, stopping at eye level to say, “Yo!” I was freaked out, mostly because I felt like I had already had a moment with it that morning and we had come to a certain amount of beauty routine detante.
So I ripped a page out of the copy of Mental Floss on the trashcan, held it under the descending critter and when it landed, promptly wadded it up and threw it away. We could’ve talked relocation to the porch if it had just waited ’til I had some clothes on.