Arachnophobia
There is a single drab bathroom at work. It is small in size
and somewhat dusty and dingy. The interior floor,
walls and fixtures are original from circa 1960s - a good
stretch of time without a new coat of paint or repairs
made to cracked and curling vinyl floor tiles.
If you are feeling a little squeamish at this point, let me
assure you that nothing that follows will violate your sensibilities.
This morning I used the bathroom and when I had
completed my business I stood up to flush the toilet.
The flushing mechanism performed as it should but
I immediately noticed that the level of the water that
was refilling the bowl was quite a bit higher than the
normal level. This has happened before and has always
meant that there is a blocked pipe. When this happens
it has always been easily remedied by using the plunger
which sits against the wall underneath the toilet tank.
I picked up the plunger and proceeded to apply the
proper technique to free the clog. Thankfully, my first
attempt produced that welcomed sound of "WOOSH"
indicating that disaster had been avoided for
the time being as most of the water in the bowl
disappeared.
As water began to refill the bowl to its normal level, I
thought I spied something twirling around in the water.
I couldn't tell what it was because it was small and out
of focus. I put on my glasses (I avoid wearing glasses
when using the toilet for numerous reasons, not the least
of which is to ensure I do not drop them into the bowl),
and bent down so that my face was about 10 inches
above the water level. I could now see that the object
was a small spider - body, legs & head. Not black in
color but one of those light pinkish-tan ones that look
to be very fragile. Slowly, my thoughts began to form
and I actually reached out to touch the wall for support
as it dawned on me that this may have come from me.
Or at least from a part of me that I do not care to become
real familiar with. My mind began playing out various
emergency room scenarios in full panoramic technicolor
that I doubt I am capable of doing justice to on the written
page, even if I wanted to.
A few harrowing minutes later, with my fingers posed over
the 9-1-1 sequence of numbers on my cell phone, my
mind's survival mechanism having detected a degree
of life threatening anxiety, ponied up the theory that the
spider did not come from me but rather simply an
unwitting passenger who had taken a ride on the plunger.
Needless to say I became instantly converted to this view.
Once again demonstrating how decisive I can be despite
having to choose between two equally plausible options.
and somewhat dusty and dingy. The interior floor,
walls and fixtures are original from circa 1960s - a good
stretch of time without a new coat of paint or repairs
made to cracked and curling vinyl floor tiles.
If you are feeling a little squeamish at this point, let me
assure you that nothing that follows will violate your sensibilities.
This morning I used the bathroom and when I had
completed my business I stood up to flush the toilet.
The flushing mechanism performed as it should but
I immediately noticed that the level of the water that
was refilling the bowl was quite a bit higher than the
normal level. This has happened before and has always
meant that there is a blocked pipe. When this happens
it has always been easily remedied by using the plunger
which sits against the wall underneath the toilet tank.
I picked up the plunger and proceeded to apply the
proper technique to free the clog. Thankfully, my first
attempt produced that welcomed sound of "WOOSH"
indicating that disaster had been avoided for
the time being as most of the water in the bowl
disappeared.
As water began to refill the bowl to its normal level, I
thought I spied something twirling around in the water.
I couldn't tell what it was because it was small and out
of focus. I put on my glasses (I avoid wearing glasses
when using the toilet for numerous reasons, not the least
of which is to ensure I do not drop them into the bowl),
and bent down so that my face was about 10 inches
above the water level. I could now see that the object
was a small spider - body, legs & head. Not black in
color but one of those light pinkish-tan ones that look
to be very fragile. Slowly, my thoughts began to form
and I actually reached out to touch the wall for support
as it dawned on me that this may have come from me.
Or at least from a part of me that I do not care to become
real familiar with. My mind began playing out various
emergency room scenarios in full panoramic technicolor
that I doubt I am capable of doing justice to on the written
page, even if I wanted to.
A few harrowing minutes later, with my fingers posed over
the 9-1-1 sequence of numbers on my cell phone, my
mind's survival mechanism having detected a degree
of life threatening anxiety, ponied up the theory that the
spider did not come from me but rather simply an
unwitting passenger who had taken a ride on the plunger.
Needless to say I became instantly converted to this view.
Once again demonstrating how decisive I can be despite
having to choose between two equally plausible options.