(no subject)
During my semester abroad in Australia, I spent three weeks on the Queensland coast, one of the more tropical regions of the continent. Queensland is famous for its beaches, the Great Barrier Reef, and the lethal nature of almost every living thing that resides there (crocodiles, great white sharks, vipers, and brown recluse spiders all make homes here). In a small (and otherwise clean) hotel room in Townsville, I encountered the most terrifying creature I'd ever seen.
I was sharing the room with three other girls, and we were about to get started with the topless pillow fighting when Emily started shrieking hysterically in the bathroom. She ran out, slammed the door, and crammed a towel under it to block anything from coming out. "There's a spider as big as my hand in there," she gasped.
We were skeptical at first, because who hasn't exaggerated the size of a particularly disgusting bug to explain the irrational terror that comes from being in close proximity with one? Diana and I were feeling intrepid, so we opened the door to take a look. At first we didn't see anything, but then an enormous black-and-yellow monster scuttled out from behind the toilet. Emily hadn't been joking: it was easily five inches in diameter and looked like it ate small dogs for snacks.
We retreated to the kitchenette to find a suitable weapon. A large cast-iron frying pan looked like a good candidate for smushing, until we got back to the bathroom and became aware of a small obstacle...the pan handle was less than a foot long. In order to ensure a proper execution for the beast, someone would have to actually get close to it.
Sadly, bravery did not triumph on this occasion. No one wanted to actually go up and squash the thing, so we settled for the next logical option: throwing the pan in the general direction of the spider, and desperately hoping it had enough force to do the job the first time.
Emily was the most athletic of us, and therefore had the honor of tossing the pan. Her aim was dead on, the pan landed with a disturbing mashing sound, and for a moment, we were victorious. Diana was even brave enough to go in and try to lift the pan to inspect the damage.
Right before her hand reached the frying pan, it started to move. The spider was still alive, and was strong enough to drag the pan around the bathroom.
We slammed the door, stuffed the towel back under it, and immediately made friends with the girls next door, who let us use their bathroom. We never went back in to our own.
The point of my story of horror and cowardice?
I think the spider has followed me back to America and taken up residence in my shower.