Vociferation

 "Are you okay?" my neighbour Lyle asked, peeking his head out from under the hood of his RV.  He was concerned for my well-being, as just moments before, he'd witnessed me exit from my house and immediately start flailing my arms and moving erratically about my driveway, as if possessed by some kind of demon, before collapsing to the ground.

I was not possessed by the devil, but my body was being manipulated by a demon spawn equally as vile.  I had just walked through a spider web.  A web that a spider felt was necessary to place across the doorway of my home.  I cannot fathom the logic that was used to make such a decision.  Animals throughout history have exhibited some great brilliance, but the intelligence to place a spider web in this, of all places, leaves one to speculate that the in the animal kingdom, spiders rank fairly low on the scale.

Unfortunately, this was not my first bout with the translucent foe.  As with many who may be reading this, I've walked through more than what I'd consider a fair share of spider webs. Whether attempting to take a relaxing stroll down a lane or passing through a hallway in my house.  Somehow these little creatures have whittled their way into our lives and I'm left to wonder, why are they even necessary?  I accept that every creature may serve some kind of purpose, but can't they just do that shit out in the wilderness?  Keep urban life to those who live in suburbia?  I don't know.  I'm no David Suzuki and I'm getting off topic, anyway.

I've been affected by the arachnids for many many years.  A little over a decade ago, while asleep in my basement apartment, a spider saw fit to bite my left foot in several places whilst I was asleep.  I later learned that it was a Brown Recluse Spider.  By definition, recluse means to live in seclusion, away from everything, but this spider failed to live up to its name, instead biting my left ankle causing festering wounds that eventually ate into my leg, causing 

permanent nerve damage.  For many months that followed, I had to repeatedly visit a specialist who treated the wounds with several salves and ointments.  There was some speculation that I might have to have the lower part of my leg amputated if the wounds wouldn't heal, but thank heavens that it did, but not without permanent damage.  Ever since, I've not felt the lower part of my left leg and foot.  It's only recently, when I injured myself with a Grade 2 sprain that I never allowed to heal correctly, that I now have some feeling in my left ankle, but it's excruciating at best.

Those dastardly devils have been following me around like an angry spirit attached to an urn, for years.  I blame one of my past jobs, which was where I was employed at the time of this nasty injury that caused me to lose all feeling in my left foot.  They imported goods from all over the world and it was not unusual to open a box and find the inside caked with webs or worse.  I think I took some eggs home, once, purely by accident as in the following weeks, the backyard of where I resided, turned from a lush healthy green lawn to something out of a horror movie.  Blanket webs for all to see.  It may have been purely coincidental. I, however, do not believe in coincidence, but I do believe in cause and effect.  The blanket web that covered my East College Park residence, looked remarkably similar to the webs I discovered in one of the boxes of product I'd opened from India. 🤔

Another time, at the same job, I opened a box and a large creature leapt out and scurried down an aisle.  Feeling responsible of inflicting my neighbourhood with the last creature that eventually not only covered my backyard with the nasty blanket webbing, but eventually it spread to the neighbouring properties.  Now, I put on my big boy pants and mustered up what little bravery I had left and chased after this bug.  Of all the memories that I still have in my head, I wish what follows was not one of them.

I'd managed to chase this eight-legged freak down to the discount aisle where I was able to stomp it with my size 13 work boot.  I remember how it felt under my shoe, like I'd stepped on a large rock.  Even though I'd hit it with tremendous force, the impact had barely affected the vile creature, it managed to escape under the racking when I lifted my foot.  I headed it off on the other side and stomped it again.  Repeatedly, I stomped on it, trapping it between my foot and the concrete floor, until finally, it succumbed to the assault.  When I raised my foot for the last time, it was truly squashed, its insides now on the outside, stringing connections between the tile and the sole of my boot, like cheese stuck to the top lid of a pizza box.  Truly disgusting and a horrific image that I'll never get out of my head, no matter how much trauma I may inflict upon my cranium.  And now, if I described this as well as I hope I have, it's an image that will live on in your head, too.  Sorry-not sorry. 😄

Naysayers will tout that spiders are not all bad.  That they're necessary.  Blah blah blah.  These people are crazy, tree-hugging freaks.  These are the same freaks who keep spiders as pets.  Tarantulas aren't loving pets!  They're mischievous interlopers scheming escape so as to lay eggs and ultimately devour their human overlords.  Propaganda like Spider-Man and Charlotte's Web will have you believe that spiders have a positive impact on the world, but it's all a ruse.  I enjoy the Spider-Man movies as much as anyone.  Charlotte's Web was a favourite story to be read to me as a child, but I never fell for the hidden messages.  I saw them as pure fiction.  Make believe.

Many a morning, I'd wake up and hunker down in front of the television set to watch the Amazing Spider-Man thwart many colourful foes, but all the while, I will admit, that in my preadolescence, it bothered me that Spidey would swing about the Big Apple, irresponsibly left all those webs slung about.

Yesterday morning, I opened the back screen to let my cat outside, when what appeared to be a feather, lightly floated to the floor, when I kneeled to remove it from the linoleum, it attempted to hide.  This was no feather that'd been shed from a baby bird.  It was a spider.  I killed it then investigated the damage it'd caused to the back deck.  Several single thread webs, stretching from the doorway to the deck railing. Another from the barbecue to the opposite railing.  What the f*ck?  How does this tiny morsel of a beast manage to stretch it's wares so far?  That'd be like me shitting out a web while hopping across the span of the South Saskatchewan.  What the hell was it hoping to catch with that feeble web?

I discovered another little bastard last night while I was using the restroom.  Tucked away up in the corner, just under the counter by the sink.  Nothing gets into this bathroom except a few ants, but they're on the floor by the toilet, far from where this nasty was located.  I grabbed a piece of tissue and scooped the little f*cker up, giving it the same opportunity as I give every other insect that I discover in my house:  If it can survive being flushed, it's welcome to live out its days in my house as my personal guest.  Rest assured, very few have taken me up on this offer, and those who do manage to climb out of Davy Jones' Locker, I toss back in the bowl and flush it.  

I only recognize one benefit of walking into a spider web.  The flailing around like a lunatic, is good cardio, but the mental anguish associated with it, isn't worth the price of admission. 😕