My first year away at college, I stayed in the dorms. I had such lovely roommates . . . a thief, a drug addict, and a non-English speaker who insisted on singing Madonna songs while studying until 5 am. But they have nothing to do with this story.
One night as I settled into bed to try and get some sleep (this was during the thief roommate stage, so I wasn't wearing the earplugs as per standard with the Madonna lover). Before I got fully settled, I felt a tickling accross my neck, over my cheek and into my ear. Yep, right on into my ear. After spending quite a bit of time trying to extract the annoying little pest with methods such as tweezers, Q-tips, and water I slowly calmed down and realized that all my efforts were probably driving the thing deeper. So, I spent the night watching TV in stunned silence, hoping the most annoying arachnid ever would soon cooperate.
It finally did, around 6 am. Just as I was about to give in and doze off, I felt a commotion in my ear canal opening. Then the tickling returned, leading from my ear, accross my cheek, and **SMACK**. I grabbed the fu--, er, um, annoyance, threw him to the floor and promptly stomped on it. Then ran to the bathroom in a panic to get the icky spider guts off my bare foot.
When I told my friends about a spider spending the night in my ear, the general response was "OMG! That is wrong on so many levels." I have to concur. But interesting, you'd think that spiders would stop messing with me, since all three of the most confrontational encounters I've had with spiders have resulted in death (obviously not mine).
But as horrifying as these incidents were, they still don't explain my arachnaphobia. Reinforce it, absolutely. But whatever caused it (if anything at all) must have happened long before. It is a mystery I'll probably never solve, and probably don't want to, since trying always results in me vividly recalling disgusting and terrifying events such as the ones I've just described.
Posted at 3/20/2005 8:11:29 am by PhilM