Several weeks ago I posted a Facebook status that stated, simply and to the point, “Who’s gonna get this spider for me then???” The spider in question was of titanic proportions, and I am not exaggerating. It had apparently been spotted a couple of days before I got back from my holiday, before suddenly disappearing and then resurfacing the day after my glorious return and settling itself on the top of my staircase. Directly opposite my room. Convenient.
Now, I’m not suggesting the spider knew of my return and had in fact planned for us to bump into each other that fateful day but, after a life time of battling these creatures, I have stumbled upon a terrifying but undeniable conclusion. You know how you never see the really big spiders building a web or in general making any effort to hunt other insects like they’re supposed to? It’s because they hunt girls! Girls like me.
Several weeks have passed since that frantic Facebook plea and it’s getting to the point where I really need to leave my room. Sticking my head out of the window to drink the rain water is no longer enough and I am becoming delirious. I desperately need to get downstairs and resume my life but each time I venture beyond my bedroom door the spider gets all Gandalf-as-a-cheerleader on my ass and spells out the letters to the words, “You shall not paaaaass!” with its legs, even adding the extra “a”s in “pass” to make it sound more dramatic, a feature that I would normally appreciate were I not currently its hostage.
Being walled up in my room like this has at least allowed me time to think. Mainly about injustice. Like how if a human crawled into your private property one day and took up residence on your staircase you would call the police but, if you replace the word “human” with the word “spider”, suddenly you’re “wasting police time,” and, “if you don’t stop calling we’ll arrest you BLAH BLAH BLAH.”
In these unsympathetic times, I have devised a few little pointers for people like me. The victims. In a spider hostage situation, people normally fall into several categories. There is of course you, the victim, followed by those that care and those that don’t. “The uncaring,” as I call them, are automatically against you and you must cut off all further contact with them to minimise the threat of them leaking crucial information about you to the spider.
“The caring,” while apparently on your side, also pose a significant level of threat. This is where our first crucial spider survival lesson comes into play; trust no one. As a victim, you are in absolutely no position to remove the spider yourself. Do not attempt it. The spider will defeat you. A “caring” person may offer to dispatch it and, while it is normally wise to take up this offer, I must repeat, do. Not. Trust. Them. Too many times have I watched through shaking hands as “the carer,” having botched the spider removal operation and allowed it to run away and hide, embarked on a ridiculous mime of trapping it in the glass and throwing it in the garden, then telling me, “It’s gone,” in a nervous voice. This ludicrous charade demeans us both. Do not rest until you see that sucker safely concealed in its glass chamber and being carried away to justice. Or just back outside. Also as a side note, never, ever, ever touch a glass that has served as a spider prison again no matter how many times it has been washed. It is forever tainted now.
A second crucial spider survival lesson is to accept the unfortunate fact that, while I deeply sympathise with your situation, there is no solidarity amongst spider victims AKA if I have an escape opportunity and you don’t, prepare yourself for a face full of dust as I get the hell out of there. You are on your own kiddo. Do not be mistaken, this is not the kind of situation where there is strength in numbers; only more human flesh for the spider to gorge itself on after the battle is lost and won. Too many times have I heard the shrill cries of, “Rebecca! Rebecca come back!” from my fellow victims as I race off into the distance. What did you expect my friend?
Finally, and probably most importantly, on our spider survival list is do not harm the spider. As much as I fear and loath the beasts, spider’s gotta eat. Spider’s gotta feed her disgusting, revolting kids. I get that. It’s nature. It’s gross, but that’s nature. Besides, we all know if you kill a spider, you are going to be looking over your shoulder for a long time my friend. Who knows what kind of diabolical revenge its spider friends are planning for you.
The irony of this spider survival guide is that I am not surviving in my current situation. In fact the main purpose of this blog was to appeal for aid to be sent via a pulley system into my bedroom. I am unsure what other tactics to employ but I am seriously considering burning down my house and condemning us both. I must go now because I am getting weak, so weak…