So way way way back in 11th grade ( I think it was 11th… I have this issue where I don’t actually remember the order of which my high school teachers go) My teacher made a HUGE deal over Huck killing a spider and the superstition behind it. Like, such a big deal that it’s literally the only thing I remember about the story. (Another issue I have is remembering the really dumb shit only and not the important stuff. Like when I took my AP Bio exam and literally the only thing I could remember while taking it was the mating habits of some sort of toads which, coincidentally, was not mentioned on the test.) Basically, Huck kills a spider and then obsesses over the fact that it’s a major bad luck move.
Somehow this stuck in my brain… so fast forward 10+ years, I am almost 28 years old and STILL refuse to kill spiders. I am that girl who traps them under a cup, slides a paper under it, and throws the thing outside. Don’t get me wrong… I am JUST as wigged out about them as the rest of the world… I am just MORE wigged out that I will strike myself with horribly bad luck if I knowingly kill the thing. I realize this makes me look bananas… but it’s just a thing I do. Sort of like how I ONLY order tomato juice to drink when I’m on an airplane. (that one is actually a little nuttier now that I think about it considering there is absolutely no reasoning behind it… but I am convinced it keeps the plane from malfunctioning… And now from actually typing this out I have convinced myself that I have a mild case of OCD.)
HOLY TANGENT… So lets fast forward a little more to saturday night when I nearly walked directly into a spider on my way into the house. The little fucker decided that the spot from the plant on the right to the wall on the left was the PERFECT spot for his huge web. Too bad for him the door was in the middle and my
roommates parents hadn’t changed the outside lightbulb in weeks and I continued to walk blindly into the house night after night, crossing my fingers that the boogie man didn’t jump out at me in the dark. So I walk into Mr. Spider’s home and he is about 2 centimeters from my face before I freak out, back up, and realize I can duck UNDER the web and still make it inside. I got a nice glimpse of the little guy while it happened and made a note of his size and he’s about the size of a dime including legs. Not so bad, right?
So the next night… I’m walking in the house, again no lights, and once again I almost face plant into a spider. Only tonight, I realized that spidey man has GROWN. I’m not talking a little, I’m talking this guy is now at least the width of a quarter across. A dime to quarter jump is huge… so either he invited friends over to play or spiders grow like, crazy fast. I’m thinking the latter considering their short life spans. Anyways… I thankfully do not face plant into giant spidey because at the last second, I remember his presence and decide to check for him. Well, along with his size, spider man’s web has also grown and there is no chance I can duck under him this time. I spend a few moments surveying my options. Option 1- use another door. No can do as I don’t have a house key (I know…) and it is 1am so clearly all other doors will be locked. Option 2- garage door. No dice again, the batteries died months ago. Option 3- call parents and ask them to let me in. It is now 1am. Phone calls to the house at this hour are only to be made in super emergency (or that one time I drunk dialed my parents from a bachelorette party). Option 4- try to bust through the web and not kill the gigantic spider. Ok let’s do this.
So I put on my big girl panties, grab my trusty lunch box, and fling it repeatedly at the web because, obviously, this is the only way to get the web out of my way. Only problem: the light is still out in the driveway and at this point the lights on my car have shut off. I cannot see the web… or the spider for that matter which is a huge problem when the spider you’re dealing with. So after I fling until I think the web is broken, I am , of course, suddenly convinced the spider is hanging out on my shirt somewhere. I get into the car, turn it back on so my lights turn on, get confirmation that giant arachnid has, in fact, just relocated to a few feet over, and make my way into the house.
Even with confirmation of spider still in web, I change all my clothes just in case his babies are hanging on for a ride.
And despite all that trouble… I absolutely refuse to allow dad to kill the spider the next day as my strangely superstitious ass is convinced it will be the worst luck EVER considering his size. Thankfully he has moved to a scarier tunnel like web. We now tip our hats to each other each day as I leave the house.
Now that I think of all this… I don’t think the no dead spiders rule is helping my luck. Maybe if I actually started killing spiders I would get some good luck and find a way to move out of my parents house again finally…
(10 extra brownie points if you actually read that whole ramble. We can be friends forever.)