I kicked the screen off the track of the patio door a week ago. I wasn't even drunk.
It's been hot out and while I wait for maintenance to re-install the door, I've been opening the door without a screen and tolerating the occasional flying thing coming in.
What I did not anticipate, with all my moving of things from closets and under beds, was finding a spider the size of my fist crouching behind a picture I'd leaned against the wall in my bedroom. How did she get past me? I have no idea. I am still giving myself chills just thinking about her.
No doubt she was a harmless, ordinary garden spider, but damn was she big. Brown, with jointed legs and a pointy fat body. She had to have a legspan of about 3 inches. Hell, I've seen tarantulas who were smaller.
She never moved from her resting spot until I blasted her with the first spray of bug killer. She made a break for it and I kept spraying from the relative safety of my bed as she legged it for the dark place under the chair in the corner. I kept spraying towards her, my whole body tingling with chills, as she twitched and moved ever slower toward what must have seemed like freedom. A puddle formed on the floor. She would stop moving and I would spray to see if she moved, and she did, resisting the chemicals assaulting her central nervous system. Finally, convinced she would not move for a few seconds, I ran and grabbed paper towels to sop up the pesticide on my floor and stepped on them to ensure her demise. I scooped up the mess with a publisher's catalogue and threw it in the trash, the mopped up the bedroom floor.
Dear Simon Spotlight: I regret that I was unable to review your Fall 06 offerings. Please send a new copy of your catalog at your earliest convenience.