It’s no secret that I’m ridiculously scared of spiders. You may remember the incident a couple of years ago that had me standing along the side of the highway with a raging hangover and no bra? Well, it may come as a surprise to hear that wasn’t my first “spider in my car” crisis.
Let’s go back to the beginning, shall we?
While waiting at a red light in the middle of town one evening, I spot something out of the corner of my eye. Looking to the right, I come face-to-face with a spider dangling from the ceiling of my car–just inches from my shoulder.
I scream and jump out of my car, killing the engine as I pop the clutch.
The stoplight turns green.
Some of you are familiar with my spider killing abilities. I just can’t do it. I immediately revert back to the 17th century and fall into my best “damsel in distress” role.
So there I was, standing outside my vehicle in the middle of a busy street, with cars beginning to line up behind me. Since I’d forgotten my corset at home, I was unfortunately not instantly recognized as the damsel in distress that I was and no one was coming to my rescue.
Time to take matters into my own hands.
As I walk up to the driver’s side door of the pick-up truck behind me and prepare to knock on their window, I curse myself for not at least having some pink on that day. Or lace. Or long flowy hair, tied with a ribbon. And maybe one of those big cone satin hat things…
Me (Damsel in Distress): “Excuse me. There’s a spider in my car. Would you mind killing it for me?”
Man (Unsuspecting Knight in
Shining Armor Plaid): [blank stare]
Me [batting eyelashes]: Pleeeeeeease?
Man: Are you serious?
Me [wishing my black GAP tee looked more damsely]: Yes.
The light turns red.
The line of cars behind me continues to grow.
The man gets out of his truck and slowly walks to my car. He opens the door and I show him the spider. He looks in the backseat and selects my latest issue of Glamour magazine as his weapon of choice.
“NOOOOOO!!!!!” I scream. “I haven’t read that issue yet!” And trade him my Glamour for a roadmap of the State of Wisconsin.
The light turns green.
He kills the spider with what I believe was Milwaukee, and I request one last visual sweep of the premise before I relieve him of his knightly duties. The light turns red as I thank him for his assistance and he walks back to his 4-wheel drive steed.
I cautiously get in my car, wait for the light to turn green, and then continue on my way with zero shame as the street widens to four lanes and the cars I’ve been holding up for the last 10 minutes pass me by. Angry glares from impatient drivers have nothing on that 8 legged threat!
Besides—a true damsel makes no apologies for her distress.