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Jewish World Review Sept. 19, 2005 / 15 Elul, 5765 Arachnids und fire are a bad mix By David Grimes
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
News item: A German woman burned down her home when she tried to kill spiders in her garage with a can of hair spray and a cigarette lighter.
First off — and I guess this point must be pretty obvious — I hate spiders.
I mean, I really, really detest the things. All those legs, the way they move around, the webs ... brrrr! I get chills just thinking about them.
And these were not little spiders, either. Think of a hubcap from an Audi, only hairier. When I'm in the kitchen, fixing some schnitzel for my family, I can hear the suckers tromping around in the garage, that's how big they are. (I swear, it sounds like they're having a party out there. Or more likely, some sort of sick, twisted ritual, like maybe they're sucking the juice out of a cow or something. I've seen bones. I have. Really.)
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Come, come, frau. Take a deep breath and step back from this situation for a moment. The spiders are in the garage, not in your house. Everybody's garage has spiders. It's a good place for them. They're not bothering anybody out there; let them be."
Well, that's easy for you to say. You don't have a freakin' arachnid rock concert blasting from your garage at 3 o'clock in the morning. Have you ever tried falling asleep to the song "Spiders From Mars" when you know it's being played by actual spiders the size of manhole covers? I didn't think so.
I agree: In hindsight, an exterminator or a can of insect spray would have been a better solution. But, to tell you the truth, I didn't want to simply kill the spiders; I wanted them to suffer. If you think this is petty or small or just outright cruel, I bet you haven't been subjected to Udo Lindenberg's "Der Generalsekretär" played at 120 decibels by a brown recluse when all you want is a good night's sleep.
And, yes, there was some schnapps involved. I admit it. I was frazzled. Distraught. At my wit's end. Those bloody spiders were making me a nervous wreck. My hair was falling out. I'd lost 20 pounds. I'd walk into a room and forget what I was there for. I literally felt like I was going insane. (Not that I was all that well-adjusted before spiders the size of flying saucers took over my garage, but that is another story.)
So I'm thinking: I can't take this anymore. I have to do something. So I said to myself: I know; I'll spray them with hair spray. My sister left behind a can of Clairol Herbal Essences Extra Hold when she visited last July, and I knew I'd never use the stuff because it's like glue. Seriously. You could patch a hole in your tire with this stuff. Give the spiders a spritz, and they'll wish they had set up band practice in someone else's garage.
So that's what I did.
Unfortunately, the hair spray really didn't have all that much effect on the spiders. Probably had something to do with all the drugs they'd been taking during their jam sessions.
So I said to myself: OK, you freakin' monsters! You want to play hardball? We'll play hardball. So I got out my Bic lighter and I set fire to a spider that was coated in about 2 inches of hair spray.
And the next thing I knew, there was this big ball of flame. Fire everywhere. The wall's on fire. The roof's on fire. The lawn tools are on fire. As I'm running out of the garage, I look over my shoulder to see what's become of the spiders. But there's too much smoke, so I run into the house and pour myself a stiff one to calm my nerves.
In hindsight, this was not the greatest of ideas. The garage burns, sparks fly on the house and the house burns, the neighbor's house suffers extensive damage. I am currently living in a motel, by myself. (Nobody in my family is speaking to me at the moment, and I guess I can't blame them.)
So, all in all, it was not a good day. But you know what? The spiders are gone.
Which is really all I was trying to accomplish in the first place.
Though, like I said, if I had it to do over again, I'd probably just buy a can of Raid.
You live and you learn. That's what life is all about.
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JWR contributor David Grimes is a columnist for The Sarasota Herald Tribune. Comment by clicking here. © 2005, Sarasota Herald Tribune |
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