Getting ready for my doctor's appointment this morning was a bit humiliating.
Showered, shaved (well, trimmed), wanting to look good for my doctor in case I get lucky. Today show running in the background, it's mindless flotsam of morning television the best encouragement to leave. I sat on the bed, pulled on a fresh pair of underwear, my shorts, and started to put a sock on.... and then I felt it.
A spider. slowly crawling down my back.
I'm not icked out by spiders. I think they're fascinating. I watch TV nature shows about them. I wrote a short story about one once that lived on the door frame of my first apartment in Dallas. I considered one my "pet" in the house I grew up in, feeding it lightning bugs (or fireflies) completely convinced that the spider would suck out the phosphorescent liquid and begin glowing. Hey, I was six. And a science nerd. And I guess kind of stupid.
I like spiders. But I don't want them on me.
After being very still for a second that lasted a week, feeling the spider crawl down my back, I freaked out and began flailing about with my hands, trying to swat the spider away before IT BIT ME AND EATED ME AND THEN SHIT OUT MY CORPSE AND THEN RAPED MY SHIT-CORPSE WITH WHATEVER KIND OF GOD AWFUL SCARY BODY PART A FUCKING SPIDER CALLS ITS PENIS GODDAMN GET IT OFF
Yeah. I had not dried my hair properly, it was a little drop of water running down my back.
So excuse me, I have to go turn in my penis to the Man Store.
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