There's a Spider in My Car
Oh, my god, traffic took forever. Foreeeeever. I don’t understand what the hell is with people. It’s not like the construction changes. It’s still there. Hell, it’s Wisconsin… it will always be there. People invite construction to their fucking weddings in this state. If you don’t, well, guess who’s drunkenly sneaking into your shots and stealing all the pot stickers? God damn it…
…
There’s a spider in my car.
Hey, buddy! See you’re making a web there. Interesting choice, by the way. Car interiors… not really known for their high insect traffic, now are they? I mean, do what you gotta. But you clearly haven’t gotten very far with that, and that’s gotta be frustrating. Of course, this car is vibrating, which can’t really be helping matters any. But you still soldier on. Good thing blithe optimism counts for a lot in this country.
So, I feel like I should call you something. Like, a name. I mean, I’m clearly going to be talking to you for a while, and ‘spider’ seems a bit rude. How about Max? That’s a nice, gender-neutral name. No presumptions. I mean, outside of the presumption of naming you. But that’s… uh… kind of a given.
Unless you already have a name. What kinds of names do spiders have, anyway? I mean, sci-fi and fantasy authors would probably give you some random assortment of syllables and call it a day. Or they’d go the even triter route and just give you a vaguely spidery adjective-noun combo. Like, I dunno… Spindleweaver or Skittereye or something.
I wonder who the hell came up with that. I think it’s a pertinent question. My name’s Jonathan, and it’s basically that mishmash of syllables I was talking about earlier. Go back far enough, however, and I think it means “God’s Love” or “God’s Gift” or something. If we’re being honest, being called Godsgift would be so much better than Jonathan. Tells your audience the things you need to know without having to pull out one of those 10,000 Baby Names books.
Here’s where it breaks down, though: if we were to get names based on the system in use in lazy fantasy, I’d be something like Jonathan Harshgrader. Jonathan Tutormans. Jonathan Triestohardtomakepeoplelaugh.
Now, you’re a spider. What’s that like?
Poignant. That strand of web just will not stick in place. That’s frustrating. But I’m sure that it’s not all bad, Max. I mean, you look like a house spider. Maybe you’re in the wrong line of work? Maybe you need to WHAT ARE YOU DOING.
Okay, okay. I’m okay. Are you okay? You’re back on the visor? Okay. Good. Let’s walk through what happened. You started flying toward my head.
Right, fine, flying is the wrong word. You were using your silken thread to use invisible air currents to float right toward my head. Do you understand maybe why that might freak someone out who is trying to drive?
No, I’m not spider-ist, Max. There are lots of…
You can’t use my head for a starting point in your new web! I will move! I will destroy it with my big lumpy body, you tiny dolt! Do you want me to smoosh you with my big meaty hands? Is that what you want? Huh?
Max, no, I’m not… I do like spiders! But if you land on me, there’s a good chance I will inadvertently swat at my neck and kill you. You. Will. Be. Dead. Is that what you want? Because it isn’t what I want, and whether you just wanted to hitch a ride on my admittedly handsome form or use me in some convoluted attempt at getting more delicious insects is not the point. I refuse to partake in something that will most likely kill you.
Are… are you pouting?
You’re curling up in a ball on the visor. You are pouting.
This is unbelievable. You are pouting because I’m concerned for your safety. What the hell is this relationship, Max? What are you trying to turn me into? A monster? Do you want me to be a monster?
What are you doing?
Stop.
Stop it now, Max.
…
There. You’ve touched down on my leg. Don’t go scurrying back up your web all innocent, I know that was the arachnid equivalent of the middle finger. How could it not be? You touched down and then immediately ran back up. What did that prove? That you’re a big spider, a big scary arthropod that can teach the big mean mans a lesson?
Yeah, here’s the thing, Max—bam.
What happened to your web, Max? Oh, did the meanie break through the tensile strength of your web like it wasn’t even there? That’s right. You’re a strong, eight-legged badass in your world, but Jonathan Webbreaker is not to be trifled with.
Did you see what I did there?
Okay, sorry. It was in bad taste. I get it. I… I just try to lighten the mood when things get heated. It’s a way to keep things from getting too real, you know?
Oh, c’mon, please don’t pout.
…
Oh, you’re gonna come out of your curled-up-ball now? To what do I owe the honor? Sorry, I don’t mean to be HOLY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING.
Goddamn it, Max. Why are you so insistent on colonizing my head? What is your end goal? Hoping I don’t shower and I’ll attract a swarm of flies? Well, joke’s on you…
Wait… was that payback? For my joke?
Are we… bonding?
Well, you aren’t pouting, so I’m going to assume that’s a yes. You’re okay, Max.
Unfortunately, our time together is coming to a close. And while I value our friendship, I’m afraid I can’t let you web up my car. I kind of swerved into oncoming traffic the last time you launched yourself at my face, so it’s abundantly that clear carpooling isn’t a good option for either of us. You see, there just isn’t enough food to sustain you. You’re a good kid, and I don’t want to watch you become a little dried out husk because you put down roots where the soil sucks.
It’s a bit of a weird metaphor to use, I’ll admit.
But, here, hop on this piece of paper. I’ll pop you on my side mirror and you can make a new home anywhere in this garage.
…
I don’t know. But judging by the webs down here, there’s a pretty solid chance you’ll be eating like a king in no time.
You… you seem to be having trouble keeping steady on the mirror, Max. Are… are you okay? I mean… you seem to be struggling.
…
Get on the paper.
Okay, there we go. You are now on the outside of my lovely apartment building. I know for a fact there are loads of insects out here. There are also birds and things, so please be careful, Max. Find a nice nook and eat the ever-living crap out of everything that looks at you funny. And is appropriately sized. Because trying to go after a dog or something is just going to end poorly.
Well, that’s odd. Never saw a spider do that before. Just… digging into the building with your rear legs and waving at me with your forelegs. Maybe I was wrong and this is the arachnid middle finger. That’s kind of a bummer. Unless, of course, that’s a thank you.
I’m taking that as a thank you, Max. And you’re welcome.
< PREVIOUS ENTRY • NEXT ENTRY >
Advice • Fiction • Gaming • General Musings • Reviews