I had no more than got lathered up in the shower when I heard the phone ringing. Annoyed, I grabbed for my towel and dripped my way into the bedroom. As is often the case, as soon as I picked it up the line was dead.

Soap stinging my eyes, I pulled the towel towards my face and saw this:


"Oh, hello!" I said to the wolf spider.

(that's not entirely true, I screamed like a little girl and added a little bit to the puddle of water at my feet...but, this is my story, and I'm stickin' to it)

"Where'd you come from?" I asked.


"Aw, man." he said. "Hope you don't mind, but I needed a place to crash for a few days. I was stayin' at one of your neighbor's house, but I overheard her say she was gonna poison me!"

"Well," I replied. "I really don't want you staying here; I've had some trouble with some poisonous spiders and have been thinking of really nuking this place with some chemicals..." I trailed off, not wanting to insult him by speaking of the annihilation of some of his fellow species.


"You talkin' 'bout those Brown Recluse in your crawlspace?" he asked. "Man, don't mess with them, they won't hurt you as long as you don't let them bite you."

Duh, I thought.

He went on. " 'Sides that, you should catch their show with the Black Widows, they do a takeoff on West Side Story, only instead of Sharks and Jets, it's 'Fiddlebacks vs. Hourglasses'. Man, the dance numbers, all those legs..." .

"Nah," I told him. "I'm not much on off-off-Broadway stuff."

"I wouldn't take up much space." he pleaded. "I could sleep in your shoe...?"

I violently shook my head, shuddering at the thought.

"Aw, c'mon dude." he persisted.

Nope, I told him.

"You should use a little fabric softener next time you do a load of towels." he said, pouting at my refusal. I tried to explain to him about softener making them less absorbent, but he interrupted me:

"Say!" he exclaimed. "Wouldn't you like a talking spider around? Especially one as handsome as me, go on, get closer, tell me who I look like!!!"


Thinking to myself that I seldom have friends over and that the few friends I DO have come over WOULDN'T ever come over again if they saw a spider, and especially never again if they heard one speak, I politely looked him over and replied:

"Uh...Fidel Castro?"

"No, no, no!" he said impatiently with a wave of several legs. "Look at me from THIS angle." and with a clittering of tiny claws he shuffled around like a miniature Sherman tank, showing me his profile from the other side.

"George Clooney, right?" he declared. "When he's gotta beard, cantchoosee?"


I really couldn't see it; Dennis Miller, maybe, but George Clooney?