A Spider Story for the Books

If I weren't already working with 4 different blogs, I'd start a new one to capture all of my ridiculous and intimate spider, et al. experiences. That would probably be a pitifully hilarious blog.

Two weeks ago I was at one of my favorite Utahn Mexican Restaurants (decent Mexican is difficult to come by here) with 12 of my coworkers for lunch. I was sitting at the middle of a long string of tables, and toward the end of my meal, I was chatting away when all of a sudden I felt (and saw out of the corner of my eye) something fall through my hair. I kind of brushed at it a little bit and thought, huh, what was that? And the coworker sitting across from me asked, "Did something just fall out of your hair?" I replied with an, "I think so..." and then I looked down at my chest and there it was.

A decently sized, black, hairy spider - perched on the top of my right boob!

Words cannot adequately describe my horror. I immediately let out the shrillest, girly-est scream of. my. life. and subsequently jumped to my feet as the spider began running all over me. Unfortunately, when you're amongst male coworkers and you have a spider on your boob and then running down towards your crotchal area, you quickly realize that you're S.O.L. as far as help goes. (As my dapper, male African American coworker that was sitting next to me put it, "Did you see where it was? Sorry, but I ain't riskin nonna that!")

So, as I'm freaking out in front of a PACKED full of people restaurant, I realize that I'm going to have to take care of this myself, and since this all happened in less than 30 seconds, I didn't have time to find a napkin or something to take care of gracefully. Mortified that I'm going to have to touch this spider in some way with my hands, I just start slapping and swiping away (again, in my crotchal region - I'm sure that looked fantastic) until the thing fell to the floor and I stamped it into oblivion like a mad crazed lunatic.

Then, I paused for a second to compose myself - and briefly glanced around the room at the people staring out me with shock and confusion, and silently slid back into my chair. I think I started laughing at that point because I knew how hilarious that all must have looked and then a new, male coworker of mine said, "Hey, if that spider had fallen on me, my reaction would have been exactly the same."

And then I felt validated somehow.

Some of my coworkers said they'd never go to that restaurant again. I'm still debating, just because I REALLY like the food. AND they have one of the best Cokes I've had in Utah. But, I still need some time to get over the resulting twitch I developed.

The funny thing was, I didn't feel a tinge of embarrassment at my behavior/reaction. There was a spider ON ME! You can't judge me for that.

Really I'm just glad the spider didn't crawl down my shirt (it was a close call). I would have hated to have to strip in front of all those people.

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

A likeness of me in 2011.

A picture taken of me in 2006, in Tijuana. 

I guess not much has changed.