“Why wouldn’t you just kill it?”
“Nooo, why would you?” Tut protested. He rolled up a piece of paper and used it as a pointer. “All life is important,” he began to lecture. ” Just catch it with your hand and let it go, like out the window or something.”
“No way! I don’t want to touch it.”
“Then use a piece of paper.”
I shudder. “What if it crawls on me? Some of them are so quick.”
“Then use a sandal.”
“I don’t want to clean it up from my shoe. It’d be all splattered with blood and its body parts…”
“Okay! Then I don’t know. Just kill it.”
I’m feeling pretty good. I finished up with a client and begin to settle down in my chair. I’m the only one in the back of the office. I start to sort out my stuff and look to the left– you can only imagine my joy when I see this huge, dark brown spider crawling on the pile of wires next to my monitor. It all boiled down to one single moment. I could…
A. … rationally start crying.
B. … start screaming and run for help.
KILL IT WITH FIRE squish it.
What to do? What to do? Its tiny stick legs sticking everywhere. Its abdominal eyes probably seeing me as some even freakier monster. Its microscopic brown hairs… just LOOK at it! I trap it in a transparent Panera cup on the nearest scrap paper I could find. The spider immediately starts freaking out, madly feeling its way around the circular vicinity and then kind of… gives up. It just stays in the same place. I could hear it going, Well, fuck.
Do I just let it run out of oxygen? I’m standing clueless in the back office. Wouldn’t that make me the Hitler of spiders? I hurry over to the front desk. “How do you feel about spiders?” She made a disgusted face. Okay, it’s time to grow up. I pick up my man-made trap, praying to the heavens that the paper doesn’t slip out under the cup. The spider, for a moment’s like, What’s going on? But then slumps back to its depressed state. Its destiny was in my hands.
“Do you like spiders?” I hopefully offer the cup and paper in his direction.
“No.” He smirks and leaves me walking down the yellow-lit hallway. Great, thanks. I glare at him before finding the nearest exit out to the patio. It’s super dry outside. The sunlight’s turnt up and burns my eyes… I feel a little bad for vampires. I look at the spider; it hasn’t moved an inch. The disappointment is kind of cute. Am I becoming emotionally attached? I put my contraption onto the stone path, pick up the cup and take a good step back. I see the spider’s disbelief as it roams the piece of scrap paper, like a child that just got recess after a time out. It was like, thank God! Praise! All is good in the world! and joyfully scurries away.
Goodbye, spider. I take a deep breath and notice the lush green bushes. Live your life out here, where you belong. I scan the patio in its entirety. Why am I talking to a bug. I go back inside and recycle the paper and cup.