Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Dear Charlie:

Okay, I was gonna post a sarcastic and hopefully amusing story about my humble abode being infested with giant, evil spider-crickets... until I started looking for a picture of one and realized that I'm not the first person to coin the phrase...dammit...and that the freaky little buggers really do infest and become an actual problem.


Well, I'll just have to be charming instead of either sarcastic or amusing. I'm sure I can manage if I reeeeeally try.

So I was in the bathtub one night, listening to some tunes and soaking up the steam and good-smelling soap stuff, and I happened to glance up at the clock. And froze in near-terror.

About a foot below said clock was...this:

I was absolutely certain that the mutant spider aliens had finally arrived, and I was to be their first victim. And then it moved a little bit and I realized it had six legs instead of eight. Unfortunately, this posed a different problem, because I was pretty sure that this mamma-jamma was a cricket of some sort, and those giant and thick legs probably meant that it could leap over the world.

And I'm naked in a tub barely ten feet away.

I don't particularly mind bugs, but I'm not fond of being jumped on by anyone or anything, especially something that looks so much like a spider. However, I haven't lived alone for going on eight years now without being a big girl about even the wildest and wooliest of spiders, so I simply kept a weather eye on the monstrosity while I finished my no-longer-relaxing bath, dried off, armored up (well, pajama-ed up anyway) and debated the logic of just throwing a shoe at the damn thing. I have mentioned my superb throwing aim as regards stuff I don't want to get close enough to for hands-on killing, right?

Unfortunately, I don't have a big enough shoe to absolutely get the job done in the bathroom, and the door is even closer to the mutant spider-cricket than the tub. I'd have to walk within a bare two feet of those super-villain jumping legs. And something about its beady eyes...the hypnotic sway of its lengthy antennae...yeah. That little bastard is just waiting for me to drop my guard, at which point it'll rocket straight for my hair, which, while wet as hell, is still just curly enough to tangle around all those legs.


But, needs must when the Devil drives, so I sidled over to the door, opened it up, and pressed back against it as I inched within a foot and a half of the black, crouching gross on my wall. I'm sure it debated leaping at me then. *snerk* I made damn sure it never got another chance at me, though.

Once I was past the immediate danger, I strode calmly to my room, debated between the wooden and aluminum bats on either side of my bed, decided on the aluminum one as more likely to demolish that armored exoskeleton, and simply dispatched the little bugger before it could even think of defying physics by jumping back-sideways at me. Problem solved.

Or so I thought.

A couple of days later, I'd decided to wear a skirt to work and wanted to wear a different pair of shoes that I don't wear very often. I'm not much for "dress" shoes, but these are Harley Davidson brand slides, so they're not so bad. Heh. Anyway, because of my latent loathing of spiders, I've been a shoe-checker since I was like two. And thank God for that.

If I had stuck my bare foot into that HD slide and my toes had touched the ginormous spider-cricket corpse inside, I would have come unglued. Seriously. They'd have had to put me away, and I'm thinking that Thorazine wouldn't have been enough to keep away the nightmares. Just the thought of how it might have felt still makes my toes curl in reflexive disgust.

Dear God.

Then, the night before last, I went into my bedroom -- I always try to go in, turn on the light, set the alarm so I don't forget later, and check for spiders on the walls before I take a bath at night -- turned on the light, set the alarm, turned around, and again froze...this time in outright annoyance. There again was a spider-cricket, antennae twitching as it froze on the far wall.

Again factoring in the leap factor, I debated the logic of looking for some kind of bug spray or just creeping up on it with the aluminum bat. Figuring that it was late enough already and that I had to work in the morning and needed to get my insomniac butt into bed, I settled on the bat. One crunch, and another one bites the dust.


At this point, I started composing a post in my head, planning to look up a suitable picture to encompass the horror. Instead, I realized that I might well actually have a problem on my hands. Admittedly, we're talking about three spider-crickets here, not an army.

But that's three spider-crickets in less than a week, and I've been here for almost eight years without seeing a single one.

Not. Good.

So I may have to hunt up some bug bombs for the cellar and do another good walk-around the inside and outside with some suitable liquid death before it gets much later in the year. Hopefully, this early cold snap will either sluggish them down or kill 'em off completely before they become an actual infestation, but if not, I got no problem poisoning the very air to rid myself of something that looks so like the most loathed and despised creature on the planet.

Otherwise, I may very well have to be committed. At least I'd have ninety-six blessedly spider-cricket free hours in which to catch up on my sleep.


At 12:53 AM, Blogger Bulma16 said...

Thanks a lot Molly. Now I'm not going to be able to fricking sleep until I check every fricking square inch of my fricking walls.

Spiders don't bother me (we actually think they're lucky in my famil. That doesn't mean they don't still get sent to the next dimension though) but crickets seriously do. And that mutated *swallows bile* thing is just not right. Seriously. Good luck with the bombing. Napalm ought to do the trick...

At 5:51 PM, Anonymous Pesh said...

Some hopefully helpful info:


At 9:29 AM, Blogger GutterBall said...

Claire, you think spiders are lucky because you're crazy. *grin* Kidding. Lots of people think that, but that doesn't stop me from smashing the guts right out of every one I see in my house.


Could explain my current employment situation, though. Huh.

And Pesh, thanks for that. I haven't seen another one since, but it's been like three days. I'm not ruling out a problem just yet. *snerk*

One more mutant alien spider-cricket sighting, and I will be taking both that article's advice and more drastic measures. I think saturation bombing might be in order.

At 9:57 AM, Anonymous Pesh said...

Heh, in addition to eating other insects, they will also eat pieces of...themselves. (When unable to find another food source.)

At 12:49 PM, Blogger GutterBall said...

Ah, so they're actually mutant alien spider-cricket cannibals. Sweeeeeeeet.


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