Spi(der) Hard

Earlier this week, my little sister made a comment about finding a spider in her shoe, and how much she didn't enjoy that experience. To which I replied lightly, perhaps even mockingly. I made it seem like, because there are so many freaking spiders in my house, that I have become accustomed and maybe even hardened to casually finding arachnids in my domicile. Little did I know the horror I would reap as a result of my hubris...

Let me start by saying, as I so often do, that tonights events were preceded by a sign, or a foreshadowing, if you will. After a busy day of pretending like I want to graduate from college at some point in my lifetime, I was ready to relax and unwind. And what better way to do this than by creating sweet music, or alternately, depending on your views, creating an unholy cacophony (those who have heard me play guitar vary widely in their interpretation of the experience.) At any rate, as I was preparing to play, I noticed a tiny movement on my carpet.

(May I digress for a moment and talk about the problem with carpet manufacturers? Specifically, the ones responsible for creating the pattern that was used on the carpet in my home. At first glance, you would say that my carpet looks entirely nondescript, and you would be correct. It is a pattern that entirely lacks descripts. If I were to imagine the conversation that led to its creation, it would go something like this:

Management Person (To the designers): Guys, I know the seventies were a fun time for you, but it's time to reign it in, fellas. No more of this 3 inch shag, alright? It's a new age, and we need something simple to maintain.

Designers (in unison): Awww, come on, do we have to?

MP: Yes, you do. And while you're at it, I want you to go easy on the colors, too. Maybe do something in beige and tan. Something that won't show off dirt too much!

Designers: But it's booooring!

MP: I know, guys, I miss being able to design with chartreuse and lime green as the main colors as much as anyone, but times have changed. It's not what the people want now!

Designers: (muttering rebelliously under their breaths)

MP: Guys, I'll tell you what. I know how much you miss the old times, so... (whispers conspiratorially) maybe throw some brown in there for old times sake, yeah? I know you guys have had fun with brown in the past, right? And maybe, just maybe, if we all work together on this, the company will spring for tickets to Carpet Con out in Topeka this year!

Designers: (In unison): Yay!

Anyways, they did such a good job emulating that "basically the same as the desert" look that they made what basically amounts to perfect wolf spider camouflage throughout the majority of my house. Seriously though, the spiders blend in so well with the carpet that when they hold still, they are effectively invisible. Even when they move, all it does is create the frightening illusion that my carpet grew legs and has decided to walk around, which is something that I do not want, even in the best of circumstances. I mean, I can't even think of a situation where I would want my carpet to be self-mobile. That seems like the kind of thing that Steven King could write a novel about. Anyways, rant over. Back to the good stuff!)

Ummm, so what was I talking about again? Oh yes, I spotted movement on my carpet, and my house being what it is, was entirely unsurprised by the presence of a little wolf spider scuttling along amongst the metric butt-ton of guitar pedals and cables that I consistently try to pass off as a home decorating motif.

And what did I do? I laughed it off! I was all, "Oh, a tiny wolf spider? Pshh, I deal with spiders constantly, who cares?" And then I shredded some Ted Nugent on guitar, just to show the spiders how manly I am! (Just kidding, I don't know any Ted Nugent on guitar. In all honestly, I am only even aware of, like, two Ted Nugent songs. But whatever I played, it was still super macho, probably.)

And then, my hubris at its height, I decided to add some more guitar pedals in, because, hey, my neighbors can only call the cops so many times before dispatch starts ignoring the calls, right? So I go looking through the jungles and thickets of mic stands and amplifiers that constitutes basically all of my living room that isn't actively covered by couches.

And as I searched, looking for that one perfect pedal that would complete my tone, I looked behind my couch and saw a shirt lying on the ground (don't ask why. You'll be happier, and so will I, because you won't be judging me for having shirts behind my couch.) And in my innocence, I thought "maybe my pedal is under that shirt for some reason" So I grabbed the shirt, and...

(Click here before you read any further)

There was not a spider behind the shirt. No, that actually would have been a relief. There were not even two spiders behind the shirt. THERE WERE THREE, COUNT THEM THREE SPIDERS, BEHIND MY COUCH. THERE WERE THREE BEADY-EYED ANTENNA-WAVING EIGHT-LEGGED MONSTROSITIES STARING BACK AT ME AS THOUGH I HAD WALKED INTO A PRIVATE MEETING OF SATANS MINIONS ANONYMOUS! ("Hi, I'm Lothar, Flayer of Damned Souls, and I can't stop flaying damned souls.""Hi, Lothar!")

The worst part of the whole thing was how calm the spiders were that I had discovered their hiding place. They all seemed to be pretty chill with the whole situation. I, on the other hand, was... not. They seemed to take this in a stride as well though. "Whoa, dude," they seemed to be saying. "Chill. You don't see us freaking out when you invite friends over. Also, watch your language. I just got all 8,000,000 of the kids to sleep."

Once I had regained coherence, quit yelling and subdued my gag reflex, I took stock of the situation. It was one against three, and I definitely had the height advantage. However, what I do not have is four extra limbs, fangs, venom, or a multiplicity of eyes. So they definitely had the advantage in all those departments. Plus, their numbers had entirely unnerved me. All I could think of was "What if that one I let go earlier is behind me now? What if he brought friends?"

I had to arm myself, and fortunately, the entry to my house provides a wide variety of options for those trained at the dojo of the sandal. There are at least 5 pairs of boots, flip-flops, and shoes scattered around at any given time. My first thought (naturally) was to go for the flip-flops, based on my observance of their past effectiveness. Unfortunately, the only pair available were not of the sturdy variety. I would say they were more the "my roommate has had these flip-flops as long as I have known him, and they were flimsy foam to start with" variety.

That left me with shoes, or boots. Boots, while great for anti-arachnid stomping, are not great for footwear-fu due to their ungaily dimensions and bulk. So, that left me with shoes. Unfortunately, the experience of finding so many spiders in an unexpected place, combined with my sisters comments from earlier, made me extremely paranoid. I was forced to pick up my own shoes by the very tip, shake them gracefully yet vigorously to ensure a lack of spiders, and then use them like John McLane uses machine guns (Deftly, and often.)

And then... have you ever seen Die Hard? The best one, by which I mean the first one? (Obviously.) Remember how John McLane kills every terrorist in the building, except for the last one who (Spoiler alert) seems to come back to life and is then dispatched by Johns cop buddy Al? This was prevented from being exactly like that by only two things. One, the spiders didn't have sophisticated European accents. And two, my roommate was already in bed, so when I went back and found that first spider, I didn't have a buddy who would dramatically shoot it in the face as it tried to get its revenge. Instead, I was forced to hit it in its stupid spider face with a shoe, much like its comrades.

Remember my last post, where I talked about being super paranoid? I admit that, on occasion, I have been known to exaggerate for the sake of comic effect within the confines of this blog. My fear of spiders has been grossly embellished, nay, perhaps even overblown. But let me tell you truthfully, that after what happened tonight, I am legitimately convinced that every surface in my house that I cannot see with my bare eyes in a given moment is literally swarming with spiders. Every time an air current brushes my leg, it seems to be Shelob's younger sister, hellbent for revenge. I regularly hit the back of my neck, just in case a spider has sneakily managed to land there unnoticed. And should I walk through an actual spiderweb, my calisthenics should instantly register me for the 2016 Olympics brand new "Flailing and Screaming" event. So after all that, all I can say is: Rachael, I'm so very truly sorry for taking the spider in your shoe so lightly. It will never happen again.