Monday morning, I took a shower with a spider.
He was cold, I was cold, there was plenty of room for both of us. He mostly stayed on the far wall though – didn’t have a shower cap handy, and didn’t want to go all “frizzy” with wet legs.
We did have a brief skirmish over the conditioner bottle, but I convinced him that he really didn’t need it, since he was staying out of the water and all.
I asked him where he was from, he said south. He’d heard the hunting was better up north, but when he finally arrived, he was kind of disappointed. I told him he hadn’t gone quite far enough, but that I’d give him a ride to Garden City on my way to work.
He was reluctant to accept the ride, as most spiders are (independent little things), but I convinced him everything would be okay, and I wasn’t one of those serial killers who pick up hitchhikers just to murder them for sport.
I gave him a comfy jar to wait in while I got dressed and ready to go, and he made himself at home spinning a lovely silk web while he waited. I dropped him off in a lovely patch of green with lots of gnats buzzing around, and he waved a leg as he scurried off.
Happy hunting, little fella…