Wanted: One good-looking spider slayer


There is a spider in my car, and it refuses to leave. 

Angela and I discovered the nasty, eight-legged friend on our way to an Estate Sale. As we discussed our bargain purchases and the gorgeous weather and wedding dresses, he scurried his way across the dashboard. We welcomed him into our conversation with wide eyes and screeches and threats of squashing him with a tissue if we ever mustered up the courage. Neither of us has ever done well with creepy crawly things. But seriously, it was huge--at least the size of a small child. I barely managed to pull my car into a nearby parking lot. We both bolted out of the car and tried to smash our unwelcome guest, but he disappeared into the vent. Dang it. 

I thought maybe he would leave on his own. After all, my Mom always used to say, "They are more scared of you than you are of them." Doubt it. After a day without spider sightings, I convinced myself to chill out. He was gone.

Too bad he reappeared during my solo trip to Indiana for the weekend! When I was 5 miles away from my exit, he tiptoed past my arm and to the edge of my seat. I nearly swerved my car off the road as I traveled down I-69. Now that I think of it, that would have been a foolish and embarrassing way to leave this earth. Girl Crashes Car After Being Startled By Insect. What a loser. 

I raced my way to the exit, pitifully swatting at the creature with my rubber flip flop, praying that he wouldn't crawl onto my leg. As soon as I reached the ramp, I looked for the nearest gas station. I pulled in, threw my car into park, and jumped out of the car. I probably looked ridiculous to everyone at the gas station, wearing one flip flop, holding the other above my head, and poking at the driver's seat with an umbrella I found in the trunk. I never did squish him. He got away, again. 

Although I'd like to believe that he stumbled his way out of my Saturn and has found a new home in the Hoosier state, I have this horrible feeling that he is waiting to surprise me one more time. At times like this, I wish I had a boyfriend, if for no other reason than to have my own personal bug slayer. Gross!

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