Gimmeoxygen's Blog

January 21, 2010

The Squeal in Aisle Three

Filed under: Uncategorized — Ruby Dabling @ 4:48 pm
Tags: , , , ,

Yesterday, while I was grocery shopping, I sauntered down aisle three in search of honey not knowing the drama that would ensue from this act.  The honey I wanted wasn’t stocked.  There were two lonely bottles waaaaay at the back of the shelf, so I stuck my trusting, little paw in to claim one, and – when I did – a SPIDER ran over my hand, up my arm and into the sleeve of my coat.

I squealed.  I shrieked.  I was so busy screaming, “Oh!  Oh!  Oh!” while shaking my arm, peeling my coat off, and leaping up and down doing the Eek!  It’s a Spider! dance that I didn’t realize what was happening in front of me.

I don’t know what kind of a noise I made when the spider assaulted me.  It was shrill, and it was loud.  It was, in fact, startling enough to cause the woman in front of me to drop, and shatter, the jar of blueberry preserves she’d been holding.  A large chunk of the glass bounced up, and embedded itself deep into the calf of her leg.  She was shrieking and bleeding, I was shrieking and dancing…everyone else was, of course, staring.

Lady, I am sorry that you were hurt.  It’s obvious you needed a suture or two, and I feel terrible about that.  I wish I could have apologized on the spot, but, you see, it wasn’t my fault – you’ve got to blame the spider that attacked me.  I would have been more attentive to your distress, but I was preoccupied because I didn’t know where the spider went.  I wanted to strip down on the spot.  I was sure that it was, still, in my clothes.  This is why I was slapping myself and Oh, God!ing instead of paying attention to the small river of blood that was running down your leg into your gray suede pumps.  My fear of those eight-legged terrorists is greater than the need to observe social graces.  Besides, you were the one the store manager trundled off to be fussed-over and taken care of.  I was the one left to look like the neurotic geek I am – still slapping, still jiggling, still convinced I had a fat, juicy brown recluse lurking in my clothing (I live in fear of the brown recluse as  it is so common out here, and so many people I know have been bitten by the nasty, venomous things).

I, then, behaved in the mature manner one would expect of me.  I abandoned my cart, ran to my car, drove home like a bat out of hell, stripped my clothing off, and jumped into the shower…all the while Oh, God!ing like the maniac that I am.

Yeah, I’m a warrior, all right…  As long as we aren’t talking about spiders, I will kick ass.

Now, I have to go to the grocery store – I think I’ll go to a different one today where I’m not quite so fresh in the memory of any of the staff who saw me – and I will do my best to maintain a low profile…….

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