Bone dust and spider guts.
I.Kitty Vs The Arachnid World Part III
Yesterday was my appointment with the dentist. He looked at my x-rays and couldn't tell whether my wisdom teeth were going to cause me hassle in the next 12 months, so is going to send them on to The Great And All Knowing Dentist God who will call me with his advice. Then, he gave me my first ever filling. I didn't quite know what to expect, so my fear was largely non-existent. Things started out ok, he was happily drilling my tooth, I was noting with interest that the smell of drilled tooth is really quite repulsive and then the pain hit me. I remember once in primary school I decided to grab the zip on my pencil case with my teeth and close it. Nails on a blackboard are nothing compared to that sensation, I assure you. And having a tooth drilled without anaesthetic is somewhere in the vicinity of a thousand times worse.
The kindly dentist, who had a bodily shape not unlike The Fat Controller, noticed my wincing and stopped. He then suggested that some anaesthetic would help the whole process go a lot smoother. I agreed but with reluctance as I knew that what he was really saying was, "I'm going to stick this sharp, dripping sliver of metal into your gum, into the most sensitive spot I can find, ok?". I'll spare you the details, but thankfully it wasn't as bad as I had feared and the whole drilling and filling process continued, as did the pain because the anaesthetic didn't really seem to start working until I was paying the bill. I have a sneaking suspicion that they do that deliberately so you don't have a heart attack over the fee.
After my egress from the dental surgery, and after realising that I wouldn't be able to eat the plump, juicy steak that was currently waiting in my fridge, I decided a trip to Woolies for soft foods would be in order. Of course, I forgot that half my face was numb and that I looked like a stroke victim. People stared as I held two packets of pasta, examining the benefits of four cheeses over carbonara. People stared as I mumbled to the woman in the deli that I'd like some semi-dried tomatoes. They stared as I looked at the ginger snap biscuits and gave out a defeated wail. Even the woman at the check out spoke to me in her best condescending tone.
I came home and felt like I had been smacked in the face with a fry pan. After a brief and futile attempt at trying to see the filling, I gave up and set out to make some soup and arranged to drool on myself. It was around 8pm that I came down from the anaesthetic in a record 30 seconds. I took some painkillers and amused myself by reading the warning information on the packet. A habit I really should break. I watched the tennis and was comforted by Jungle Boy's online antics. Alicia Molik had just won the first set against Venus Williams when it happened. It pelted up the wall, from behind the fridge and sat on the roof just long enough for me to fully comprehend what was happening. It's eight eyes blinked independently of one another before it ran across the ceiling.
The facts of the situation went through my mind. Huntsman. Bigger than my hand. In studio apartment. Nowhere for me to hide. Bug spray on other side of room, impossible to access. I live alone. I have to deal with this myself. I'm wearing a slip, can't get neighbours. Its after 10pm, can't call friends. Painkillers that cause drowsiness are taking affect. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
In the space of approximately ten seconds my body had managed to cover itself in goose bumps and at the same time be dripping with sweat. I had also came to the realisation that I had to kill the spider. There was no way I could sleep/live until I knew it was gone. And I sure as hell wasn't getting an old Chinese container to capture it in and place it outside. I watched. I waited. This was no ordinary huntsman; it didn’t just sit in the one corner and move only when you weren't looking. This huntsman was crawling everywhere. And my god do they move fast.
It managed to out manoeuvre me and found its way behind the kitchen wall. Using every ounce of strength and bravery I moved to a safe position where I could view the kitchen. I couldn't see the spider. I inched closer. Still no sight of it. Choking and shaking I stood on my bed, one hand holding the wall, one foot gingerly being placed on the ground, neck straining to see around the wall, skin crawling with fear. I had a complete view of the kitchen. And I couldn't see the spider. I knew I had one option left. I had to grab the bug spray from the kitchen and spray in the direction of the cupboard in the hope it would cause the spider to reveal itself, as it could only be in one of two places; on top of the cupboard, or down in the small gap between the cupboard and wall.
My plan worked. I sprayed and the spider came running out, right towards me. I of course freaked and ran to the other side of the apartment where I did The Spider Dance, which involves running on the spot and waving my hands while making an "eeeii" sound. And the spider kept coming towards me. Its thick, hairy legs clinging to the ceiling. I sprayed. It changed direction but I was still backed into a corner. I sprayed again, this time cursing like a drunken, Scottish sailor. It ran back. I followed, still spraying. But it wasn't even slowing down. I kept spraying. It ran down a wall. I shook the can of Mortein one handed, in the same way Sarah Conner does with her shotgun at the end of Terminator 2 and sprayed again. The spider dropped off the wall and hit the tiled floor, its legs coated with spray as it flailed about trying to regain traction.
The battle went on like this for a while. It was still moving too fast for me to get close enough to squash it, so my only option was to keep spraying. Eventually it flipped itself onto its back and its legs curled up. I grabbed my big fuckoff boot, aimed and let fly. Its unholy body burst and spider guts went everywhere. But I didn’t stop. I continued to hit it, grinding its body into the hard surface, taking out all my rage and fear on it. I dropped the boot and stood back, still shaking and covered in sweat. I scanned my apartment for any more invaders and satisfied there were none, I lit a cigarette and sat down to see Molik take the second set and enter the quarterfinals.
Below is a picture of the abovementioned spider. I apologise for its blurriness, but I was shaking too much to be concerned with getting a picture perfect shot.
