&I have this problem with spiders dropping down on me in the bathroom. It’s pretty bad. Now, years ago right after I saw Arachnophobia; which terrified me.
For years I had to look around the ceiling of any bathroom I wandered into. And if, god forbid, I actually saw one I would soil myself and run out of the room. But I got over it.
Mostly.
A while back, I had decided that they did more good than harm when they stayed in my room, eating flies and what not. They don’t, however, clean up after themselves very well, so I started evicting them.
Except for when they come from above, in which case I kill them mercilessly. I don’t know what they’re thinking when they do it, “Let’s drop in on Dylan and Die! Yeah!”.
For example, I was cleaning the bathroom a few weeks ago, and when I wiped the vent of the fart-fan, a spider the size of my fist dropped out of it. He scurried around a bit and then I dropped my boot up it’s ass, so to speak.
That particular episode reminded me of a time when I was taking a shower at my parents house, and a spider the size of my head dropped down. I screamed a bit, because it’s the last place that I would really expect to see anything alive. Then, while I was still a little shocked, it smiled and waved as it fell down the drain.
When I emerged a few days later, my mother asked me exactly why I had screamed.
“A spider,” I said. “But it never told me it’s name and I can’t shower with something that doesn’t tell me it’s name.”
“Ahh.” She says. “I would have fled the bathroom.” This is probably true, although she wouldn’t have used the door, instead opting for flying through the wall, if history can be of any use of predicting hypothetical situations.
She claims to be terrified of spiders, and does a pretty good job of convincing the rest of us that this is the case. I’m not sure about this though, because a tremendous number of spiders have died in not-so-mysterious circumstances while she has been around, but honestly I’ve never seen a spider so much as threaten her.