Me: What is that sound?
Regina: Hmm?
Me (stopping in my tracks): That sound. That buzzing sound. Don't you hear it?
Regina (not stopping and now a few steps away): I don't hear anything.
Me (looking around): Oh! It's that bee! On the ground! It's... oh my god a spider is biting- OH MY GOD IT'S A FUCKING BLACK WIDOW.
Regina (approaches warily, backs away in horror): Ohhhhhh, get away from it, Megan!
Me (kneeling down as close as I dare to go): REGINA. THAT BLACK WIDOW IS BITING THAT POOR BEE TO DEATH. BITE! BITE! BITE! THAT IS ONE BITEY SPIDER.
Regina (paling): It is making me sick to look at it, Megan, get away from it.
Me (now jumping up in down in horrified fascination): THAT SPIDER IS KILLING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT BEE.
Regina (at a total loss of words, but standing staring at the morbid scene from a safe distance)
Me (seeing approaching pack of five college age men walking a dog on Gay Street) (and yes, now I am shrieking at them so the understand the gravity of the situation as quickly as possible): GUYS. THERE IS A BLACK WIDOW SPIDER KILLING A BEE ON GAY STREET RIGHT THERE.
(College men all approach hysterical me and finally see the murder scene at their feet)
College man 1: Oh man... that spider is killing the shit out of that bee.
Me: I KNOW, RIGHT?
College man 2: Should we kill it?
College man 3: There's a black widow on Gay Street? What the hell, man?
Me: I am cashing in all of my girlie chips on this one. One of you kill that spider.
College man 4: You know what? I'm just going to keep walking.
(College man 5 just sat in horrified silence during this whole exchange.)
 |
| i was too terrified to go in for a closer shot |
And that is how I came to see a black widow spider killing a bee on Gay Street.
Co-worker Cathy and I have a game we like to play called "Google Image Search Gross Things." Basically, when I visit her cube, we take a moment to Google something yucky, like "head lice," or "warts," or something equally icky so we can go "EEWWWWW" real loud and feel good that we don't have head lice or warts. Recently, she sent me a picture of a fish with human teeth. She did preface it with "you cannot unsee this" but I clicked the first picture. And thought, eh. That ain't so bad. So I clicked the second picture.
And that's when things went horribly wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.
I texted and shamed her when I started thinking about that fish tooth abnormality on Saturday. In the middle of the night last night our neighbors (for the third time in three weeks) came home from the bars boisterous and loud and woke both Regina and me up from our beauty sleep forcing me to get out of my cuddly bed and leave a nastygram on their door at 3 AM.
hee hee i'm even funny in my sleep. i like the duct tape effect. heather pointed out that it may just be some pent up angst about my upcoming divorce, but she's crackers and i never listen to her.
But I of course could not go back to sleep and almost texted Cathy another shaming text message at 3 AM because I COULD NOT GET THAT CREEPY FISH MOUTH OUT OF MY BRAIN.
Then I was greeted this morning by a very repentant Cathy who told me she had a nightmare with a dead frozen fish with teeth. Some kid was
toting it around scraping its teeth on everything. Cathy now avows: "No more fish, NO MORE TEETH,
EVER." And I'm holding her to it.
So I will not post that picture of that creepy fish head, because I'm kind and caring and Hitler's dog doesn't deserve that image in its head. I also like to do favors for people (see note above), so you're welcome. But if you chose to Google it, then fine. You're on your own.
But don't say I didn't warn you.
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