Spiders in my Bathroom

Like Snakes on a Plane.

Anyway.

This morning there was a spider in my bathroom. Sink, to be more specific. I saw it poking it's little legs out, trying to get a feel for what it's wanton new home would be like. Simply because it was a spider I saw no use in trying to bargain with it. (Had it been a cockroach, for example, yes. I would have tried to reason with the thing.) But spiders? No. They're either in or out. And this guy was definitely here. So. I quickly finished folding my towels, as was my main purpose for being in there, and decided what I would do next. It was at that precise moment that the spider must have been deciding exactly what IT was going to do next. It crawled out of the sink drain. I gasped. It crawled back in. Our feelings for each other were mutual, apparently. I proceeded to proceed (ha) with my course of action. I turned the hot water on really high. In my mind I could actually picture what would happen. It would be washed down the drain, never to be heard of again. I actually started humming "the itsy bitsy spider." But I must have forgotten the part about the itsy-bitsy spider climbing up again. And I did. Because that's what IT did. Climbed back up. The hot water seemed to be pissing it off. Go figure.

At this point I immediately started jumping up and down from foot to foot yelling that there was a "HUGE SPIDER" in my sink. Well, whining may be a more accurate word. I grabbed the closest roommate and begged and pleaded him to take care of it. He grabs a paper towel. I explained: "I don't think you understand the seriousness of this spider. A paper towel just isn't gonna cut it. Take it from me!" (as I continue to jump from foot to foot, now in the kitchen.) I suggest a shoe of some sort. A flip-flop is employed. We go into the bathroom (well, he pretty much just goes in. I peek my head around the doorframe). He slams the flip-flop into the sink and I scream. "Is it gone?" I ask. He explains that it is gone. But is hesitant. "Is it dead?" I ask. He calmly explains that it is not exactly dead at the moment but the back end is completely smashed and it is now washed down the drain with hot, hot water. (oh yeah. I've left the hot water running.) If not dead already, he explains, it will be shortly. I thank him and offer ice cream or something equally as precious like cookies and milk, and everyone goes on about their business. Me? I leave the hot water running for another good 7 minutes. Then, just to be safe I pull the stopper on the drain. At least for tonight, I think I'll be safe.

P.S. It really was a big spider! I wasn't exaggerating. Simply because the Wolf Spider is "not poisonous" does not make it any less life-threatening to me.

Gross.