Tuesday, October 8, 2013

"Food of the Gods" Spider INSIDE THE BUNGALOW!

The other night Jimmy was in the front room on the couch watching TV in the dark. I walked in and turned on the light that sits behind the TV and in front of the built-in bookshelf. Jimmy looks over my head and yells, "what the fuck is that?!" I turn around and look up and there sits the largest, meatiest spider either of us have ever seen in our whole lives, INSIDE THE BUNGALOW! I let out a little scream as Jimmy jumps up and says, "Is that a spider?! I think it has wings, I think it has wings! Seriously, it has wings!"

After I reassure Jimmy that it is just a "food of the gods" spider and it does NOT have wings, we start to strategize how to kill the freakish thing. Jimmy offers, "the Swiffer, squish it with the Swiffer." Good idea. "You're going to make me do it, aren't you?" I ask. "Yup. I ain't doing it. That's a landlord duty," he asserts." Damn.

I get the duster Swiffer (not the wet one, duh), a thing that is as long as a broom, has a flat flexible head, should be good for murdering spiders. I tell Jimmy to get the broom and be ready to smash the beast in case it lives or actually does have wings and starts attacking us. In position, I realize the book shelf the spider is perched above has a long molding piece that the giant thing could fall into. Ok, I've got this. I take a couple of deep breaths, close in on the thing slowly then jam the Swiffer onto the wall, press hard as I can for several seconds, rocking it back and forth ever so slightly. When I am 79.4% sure I have killed it, I sweep it hard to my right so the thing won't fall in the molding. Jimmy screams, wields the broom, "what the fuck? Why did you do that? Where did it go?!" "I didn't want it to fall in the molding and live there forever!" I retort.

We both start frantically looking for the carcass, we hope it's a carcass. Nothing. I look at the bottom of the Swiffer, no spider. No spider guts. No spider legs. No spider anything. We move the chair, we pull up the heating intake grate, we check behind the pictures on the walls. Nothing. We get a stool from the kitchen, Jimmy checks behind the molding above the shelf. Nothing. He tells me to check, I am too short, I can't see anything. He checks again. Nothing. We check everything twice, then once again. Nothing. We get Cosmo to look. She thinks we are crazy and stares at us.

We are left mortified, drawing the only logical conclusion we can come up with. The fucking thing flew away.