Monday, September 19, 2011

Spidey Senses

The other day I ate a spider. Or perhaps it was a worm, or a centipede, or maybe even a daddy long-legs - the possibilities are endless. It started with a chocolate bar and my chocolate-related greed, and led to a complete nightmare.  As always, I was really excited to unwrap the chocolate bar and eat it.  I also really didn't want to share it with my co-workers (who already steal my hand cream as it is) so my adrenaline was pumping as I raced to shove it all in my mouth- and yes, that is, in fact, what she said. The way this particular chocolate bar is wrapped leads to it laying upside down upon being unwrapped. I didn't bother flipping it over, and just broke off row after row mindlessly.  The first row tasted pretty good, but the second had some wisps of cotton hanging off of it. I brushed the cotton off before eating it.  By the third row, I started to wonder why there was so much wispy cotton on the chocolate bar. I put the little squares down and flipped the rest of the chocolate bar over to find the most horrific sight one should ever find on such a delightful dessert- there, wedged between two squares, was a nest.  It was thick and cocoon-like and I immediately thought I was going to die.  Then, it got worse. There, just a square away, was a little hole.  Let me break it down:  the thing made itself a cocoon, grew nice and strong, and buried itself in the chocolate bar.  Fuck knows how far it got, and chances are, I ate it, so now not only do I have bat rabies but there is a spider laying eggs in my body as I write this.  Everything after that is blurry - I put the chocolate bar down and my head started spinning.  I remember pounding the keys on my phone until my mother's voice answered, and the first thing she told me to do was call Nestle (and not a doctor? I like where your head's at, mom).  I also remember my conversation with the Nestle representative very well, because it was one of the most ridiculous moments in all of my existence.  It went as follows:

Representative:  So, can you describe the insect to me?
Me: Umm, no, because I didn't see it. There's a hole right beside the nest though.
Representative: Okay well can you look in the hole?
Me: I did. He's in there real deep. Can we talk about the ethics associated with this-
Representative: I need a description of the insect.
Me: I didn't see him! He's in the hole, I imagine, or I ate him. Probably the latter. 
*Long pause of silence*
Representative: Well how big was he?
Me: I don't know! I imagine no bigger than the hole he's in, and there's no way I'm breaking that chocolate bar open to check! For all I know, it could explode with a hundred spiders.
Representative: Okay I'll just write 'Client could not capture spider'
Me: Uhh, okay, or you could-
Representative: No, I'll write 'Spider was too fast for client'
Me:......Fine. The spider was too fast.
Representative: Can you tell me how big he was?
Me: ...................Okay, he was two millimeters big.
Representative: Oh no, that's too small for a spider. I'll put you down for an eighth of an inch.
Me: Sounds good. 
Representative: What color was he?
Me: Christ. He was green and white. He was covered in polka dots and his eyes were yellow.
Representative: Like a light green?
Me: Sure.
Representative: Okay, I'll need you to hold tight, don't eat any more of the chocolate bar, and we'll send you a coupon for ten dollars towards your next purchase.

I wish I was kidding about even a word of that conversation, but since I transcribed it as it was happening, I can ascertain that this is exactly what was said.  These days I'm not even sure what will become of me. Every morning I wake up expecting to look like one of the following:

The scary guy from Total Recall - thanks for letting me watch that when I was eight, dad. 
Who needs a healthy nervous system, right?


 Quark from Star Trek, although I know someone who looks identical to that and they seem to be doing fine.

The Toxic Avenger

Oh wait, that's just an old picture of me at a sleep-over.

Or, the most plausible scenario, a spider-bat combo. 

I'd like to say I learned two important lessons: a) share and b) always eat chocolate the right way up, but you never can tell with these situations. Besides, it's really hard to think with this itchy spider in my stomach.

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