Thursday, April 21, 2005
Trauma
Okay, so yesterday I almost died. I was out in the parking garage at work, and getting ready to drive over to my parents. I got into my car, and reach over to close the door, when I see it. SPIDER. Not a cute little Charlotte's Web spider. This thing was big, hairy, black with white stripes, and I could tell he wanted to kill me.
My solution: Slam the door shut in hopes of shaking him off, and then in case that didn't work, drive like a maniac through town and hoping the wind does its job.
Fast forward to my drive home from work. (Can you hear the Jaws music playing?) So, I'm cruising along, on the HIGHWAY, and I get off at my exit. This is when Killer Spider makes his reappearance. On my dashboard. So I swerve my way over to the side, and start to pray. Hard. Mr. Killer Spider walks along my dashboard, and makes his way over to my window. I roll the window all the way down, and he makes it halfway across. I give him a little help out of my car by blowing him out.
Once again, I drive like a maniac with him perched to the side of the car. Oh, but get this, he is not happy to be outside, because he keeps looking at me through the window and scissoring his pinchers together. I know what he wants to do with me. I am being held hostage in my own car.
So then he thinks that he will be smart, and go hide right behind my door and wait. Well, fortunately for me Mr. Killer Spider was too big to hide. I could still see him with my side view mirror.
So then begins more praying, but this time for things that I have never prayed for before. Example: I am speeding atrociously in hopes that a policeman will pull me over and save me from Mr. Killer Spider. But NOOOO! There were no police around. Of course not.
I have to resort to extreme measures now. I pick up my cell phone and call my husband. While doing this I know he will taunt me. He does. But I don't care, because I need help. By the time I finish explaining the situation to him, I am almost crying.
Jerry's Mission: To come out when I get home and remove Mr. Killer Spider from my car so he doesn't jump in and get me when I open the door.
I am happy to say that after all of this, I am alive and well. Part of my well being is due to the fact that Mr. Killer Spider is no more. He took a ride in the toilet, courtesy of my husband.
Moral of the story: My husband's White Knight status turned a little gray for taunting me about my fear of spiders, but he is still the best rescuer a girl could ask for.
1 Comments:
OH, man. You should read my post from January 20th. Encounters with spiders are bad for psychological health, man! I am so sorry you had to suffer such an experience!
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