21
09
2007
Spiders on my bed
So I walked pass my bed and I casually look at one of my pillows and what do I see? A spider about the size of a quarter, maybe a little bigger. My first reaction was to go get something from the beeping microwave but then I was afraid that if I did that I might lose track of the spiders, I didnt want to come back and crush it. I picked up a plastic cup and an envelope and pushed the spider into the cup. I put the spider outside. The spider looked like it had stripes, kinda like a tiger, but then again I was more concern about the soup I left in the microwave.
the only reason i can think of for your ability to communicate with these beasts is that you are from the jungle and you share a common tongue. if it had been me, i would have used science and reason to destroy this beast, and not my tarzan-like ability to communicate. also, i never would have used that pillow again. i would have burned it. with gasoline. i think the reason it was so drawn to your pillow is that it reminded it of being outside, what with all the dirt and hair that must have been on it. i must have seemed like the bottom of the amazon to this simple beast.
i’m imaging by your description that it was just a common wolf spider. *maybe* a hobo spider. i think the one that hitched a ride on me the other day was a hobo. i believe they are distant relatives to the brown recluse without the necrotic venom, but i can’t say for certain. all i know is that if i see one, it gets squished. don’t bother telling me all the good that they do in the world; i see, i squish.