Back behind the hydrangea bushes a lady spider made her home. Her web spread across the corner between the drain pipe and the wall in a strong and organized arch, but under closer inspection very delicately woven. Delores, the lady spider, took great care of her home for, she hoped, she would be sharing it with a nice Daddy Long Legs.
One day she found herself lonely, and decided to head up the drain pipe for Crawler’s, the rooftop bar.
It had just rained and the slippery slope of the pipe reminded her of the scary story her mother told her of the reckless spider who went climbing in the rain and was washed away. Growing up with a single mother came with all sorts of nevers’ and don’ts’; tales of the foolish who snubbed good advice.
Instead of holding her back the thought of her mother’s constant warnings hardened her resolve. So, with all four back legs steady, she launched herself into the night full of hope and possibility.
Music emanated from the dingy rooftop retreat, soft and inviting. As she approached sounds of good times and company her wants grew louder and more encouraging.
Suddenly aware of her aloneness, Dolores felt herself grow shy and over aware and she hid herself in the corver, but once she started to sip her drink the rooms warmth stretched out to her. From the corner of her eyes she saw a long legged man leaning, legs akimbo against the bar top. The man clearly had a healthy and handsome dose of confidence. In a second his head turned; he saw her staring. He looked at her like he knew what she was thinking.
One drink lead to another which lead down the pipe to her web. She wondered now if perhaps it had been all her fault. I mean, she’s the one that invited him, sent him the wrong signs, suggested to him, glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes.
He was ever so polite as they walked to her web together. But once they were completely and intimately alone she wasn’t so sure she wanted him there. Where an entendre would have been in public, a ribald statement encroached. Legs slid closer until there was no space at all. At first it felt so nice to not be alone that she hardly noticed how uncomfortable she was. But, the more familiar he got the worse she felt.
Here was some guy she hardly knew in her lovely home she had worked so hard to make. It was her personal space her privacy her very life and suddenly he had invaded and raised his flag as if to conquer.
She started to pull away. No, she thought, no longer interested. Her lips slowed their frantic action until she barely moved them at all. He didn’t notice.
Alone in her disinterest, she suddenly realized she didn’t get the point.
CHOMP. And it was gone.
Did he deserve it? Perhaps not. Was it wrong of her to simply go and bite his head off like that? Sometimes we do things without thinking them through. Dolores certainly seconded guessed her impulse as she cleaned up the mess.
“Now why did I have to go and do that?” she questioned herself. “I thought that was what I wanted.”
And yet whenever she brought a man to her web something like this happened. She just couldn’t keep from stopping them short, always abruptly. At the very last second it simply felt wrong and off went his head.
Yet even now as she wiped away the mess, she thought, “I’m still glad I didn’t.” And that didn’t make her feel wrong.