Recently, I was emailing with a friend about those gigantic spiders that you see around these here parts. Some people call them writing spiders and some people call them banana spiders, but I just call them really scary. I hate how they aggressively bounce up and down on their webs when you come near. Anyway, it reminded me of this story:
Long, long ago, in a land far away, Thomas and I used to live in a big old converted Victorian. In a closet beneath the stairs, there lived a small boy with a lightning shaped--no wait. This was before I met that guy. In a closet beneath the stairs was the smallest bathroom in the land, and in the bathroom, beneath the foot of the sink, there lived a monstrous spider. He was very large, and very black. He never moved from beneath the foot of the sink, though I eyed him suspiciously whenever I had to pee. Finally, I mentioned him to Thomas, whose house it had been before I rather noisily and abruptly moved in with all my stuff and two unruly dogs.
Me: Did you know there's a monstrous black spider living in the smallest bathroom in the land?
Thomas: Oh, yeah. That's spidey. He's ok.
Me: Yeah, he doesn't move much.
Thomas: That's because he knows the rules.
Somehow, I was calmed by this, and I grew to love Spidey as I would a pet. He just looked at me blackly while I peed, and ate mosquitos and took up all the real estate. He was a fine, fine spider.
One day, we came home from the bar and Spidey was in the hallway.
"It's Spidey!!" I shrieked. "He's escaped the smallest bathroom in the land!"
I bent down to inspect him and to enquire after his health, when suddenly Thomas's foot came down and smashed my monstrous black spider.
Me: Thomas! What the fuck? That was Spidey!!!
Thomas: He knew the rules.
I still miss him.
