Tinder Dude, The Spider Slayer

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At some point in my life I developed a slight allergy/major sensitivity to spider bites. As in, if I get bitten, I will wind up with a giant bump where the bite is, hives all over the area, and I will pop a fever like a movie theatre pops popcorn. I may also wind up with other not so fun symptoms depending on the bite. I once got bit behind my knee and couldn’t bend my knee for two days from the swelling and I had the worst headache I had ever felt to date along with having an upset stomach. It sucked.

So now I have some issues when it comes to living with spiders.

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Like, I don’t mind if they stay in their corner if they pick a good corner to set up shop in. I’ll even tell them that. If I see a spider is making their home in a spot where they can’t drop down on me and bite me, I’ll let them live and I’ll make them a deal. They stay in their corner and I won’t kill them. But if they come out of their corner, they’re dead.

Which is what happened one night when I went into my bathroom and saw that my friendly corner spider had moved to a new corner over my bathtub. I have enough issues with spiders biting me when I’m dressed. I refused to be naked when a spider could drop down on me and bite me at any time. After years of waxing my lady garden, I’ve caused myself enough pain, thank you very much. I don’t need a spider bite on my boobs, butt, or beyond.

Except the spider was in a corner that I couldn’t reach. For once I wasn’t tall enough to tall person myself out of the situation. He was tucked tightly into a corner so I couldn’t hit him with a book or ball and I didn’t think that I could get him with a broom. What was a damsel in distress like myself to do?

Well, I started swiping Tinder. I simply swiped right until I got match and then I sent them this message:

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It took a few tries, but it eventually worked! A guy named Jon replied. He was 6’2″, gave me his ph# and told me to text him. I sent him a text, he replied, and before I knew it, this 6’2″ knight in shining sunglasses was walking into my bathroom to kill a spider for me.

I wish there was more to this story than that, but there isn’t. We sent a few messages back and forth to make sure the other wasn’t a serial killer and then he drove over to my place to kill the spider.

Dude made it look easy too. He simply walked in, we awkwardly hugged each other and then I showed him the spider. Then that was it. My spider slayer helped himself to some toilet paper, then reached up to the hard to reach corner, and quickly squished the spider that had broken our agreement and was holding my bathtub hostage.

It made the best popping noise as the Tinder assassin mashed it into the ceiling with a couple pieces of Extra Soft Charmin.

I know we’re all thinking that this is totally a set up to some insane porn scene, but it wasn’t. He thought I was ridiculous for asking random men to come kill a spider and I thought he was ridiculous for driving over to kill a spider. We both agreed that juice pouches were superior to juice boxes and I had to apologize for my lack of Capri Sun. While he was drinking his juice box he was nice enough to look around my place to make sure there no more spiders and then he returned the wild abyss that is Tinderland, never to be heard from again.

Wherever you are, Tinder Dude, I hope you’re living a good life.

The lesson of this story is that there are decent guys on Tinder, chivalry is definitely not dead, and you never know what you’ll get unless you ask for it.

Also, you shouldn’t try to make deals with spiders since they’ll probably break that deal anyway.

 

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I Killed a Spider

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I am a strong, independent woman. I live alone, I can kind of cook for myself, I can put out fires all on my own, and as long as I don’t have to kill spiders or care for myself when I’m sick, I am great at living single life. I am basically that one scene from Cool Runnings in real life.

Anyway, as per my usual Friday night shenanigans, I was laying in bed watching a movie. I had my lights out and I was just getting ready to drift off to sleep amid Captain Jack Sparrow announcing that he had a jar of dirt when out of the corner of my eye I saw something huge and very gross skitter down my wall and drop on to the floor. Of course the only light that I had to see it by was my TV so I couldn’t be sure that it was a huge creepy crawly or if it was my hair moving around in the shadows. Sometimes it really is my hair and I’ll immediately want to shave my head to avoid future terrors.

This time though? I couldn’t be sure. Was I sleepy and just seeing things? Or was there a spider skittering off somewhere to lie in wait for me to bite me and not give me any neat super powers? Because the only things I get from spider bites are rashes and horrible bumps that hurt to touch.

Just to be sure that it wasn’t my crazy mass of curls going bonkers in the light of my laptop, I turned my light on and looked around for a large spider with hairy legs. I saw nothing. Except I was still convinced that I saw something, so I left my light on. In that moment I was hoping to all deities that what I saw was a combination of my sleepy mind and my frizzball hair. There is no way that something that huge could be in my bedroom. However, I was still going to sleep with my light on. Just in case. Or maybe I woul-

OH DEAR FREAKING JEEBUS THAT THING IS HUGE!

I saw it go scuttling across my bedroom floor and into my bathroom. It had long, spindly legs, a giant body, and it was making a break for the bathroom like it had eaten its weight in laxatives and it’s butt was about to explode with spider turds.

In summary, I had not mistaken my curly, crazy hair for a spider. The spider was a spider.

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In that moment I decided that I needed a booty call. Except instead of coming over for sex, they would come over and kill spiders for me at 1am. No questions asked. No expectations. They would just walk in, I would point the creepy crawly out, then they would kill it and leave. Maybe they would cuddle me after if it was a particularly huge spider. This spider killing booty call has been one of my longest standing wishes and one of the few reasons that I would get into a relationship. I would marry the person who promised to always kill spiders for me. I’m willing to settle for a friends with spider killing benefits situation though.

But with no one else to kill the spider for me, it was up to me to blast “Eye of the Tiger” and go kill the thing. It took me a solid 5 minutes to root the thing out from behind the toilet and kill it, but it eventually died a horrible death after I sprayed it in place with extra strength hair spray and squished it.

As I knelt over the dead creepy crawly I couldn’t help but consider the problems of frizzy hair and single life. I considered shaving my head, but my skull is super lumpy and I don’t want a potato head, so I won’t be doing that. After that I considered being in a relationship, but then I realized that I was dressed in boxers pulled up to my tits with a scarf tied around my head as a sweatband and…well, I also realized that I’m not ready to give up single life either.

But hey, if you’re reading this and want to kill spiders for me at 1am, hit me up.