along came a...

When I got home from my massage last night, I was so relaxed that I practically floated up the stairs. The people who live across from me were sitting on their balcony, so I said hello to them. We’ve never actually spoken to each other, aside from exchanging greetings at the mailbox or on the stairs, but they seem nice enough. She’s a nondescript brunette, and he’s a tall dude who, despite being toothpick thin, looks like he could throw down. They have jujitsu bumper stickers all over their car, and I’ve seen him come home wearing a gi, so I’m assuming he’s either an instructor or really into martial arts.

Anyway, when I got inside, my apartment was sweltering hot. I opened all the windows, turned on my fan, changed into my pajamas, and went to the bathroom for a leisurely whiz. I was sitting on the toilet, and when I reached over to grab some toilet paper…

…I unrolled a plump spider directly into my hand.

“YEEEEEAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!” I screamed, flinging the spider onto the floor with such force that I’m surprised it didn’t explode like an overripe tomato. It tried to scurry to safety, but it was no match for me. I squooshed it in fifty layers of toilet paper and flushed it away to join the silverfish in subterranean Turd Land.

Interloper dispatched, I went to the sink and washed my hands. I had just turned off the faucet when a loud banging on my door caused me to shriek and whack my leg against the counter. Moaning in agony, I limped to the door and looked out the peephole. Mr. Jujitsu was standing there, shifting his weight rapidly from side to side. His girlfriend/wife was standing behind him, biting her nails.

“Yes?” I called through the door.

“Everything okay in there? We heard screams.”

“Oh, I’m fine, just a really big spider.”

Silence, then: “Are you sure?”

I opened the door just wide enough so I could stick my head out, but he couldn’t see my unbound breasts flopping around in my Old Navy tank top with the soy sauce stain on the front. “I’m fine, I swear. I didn’t mean to scream, but it startled me. I appreciate you checking, though, honestly. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he said, and I closed the door.

Okay, that was embarrassing, but it’s good to know that I probably won’t be Kitty Genovese’d in my complex. However, considering that this is the second incident where open windows + insect = embarrassment, I’m thinking maybe I’ll just keep the damn things shut.