R.I.P. Sam the Spider, a Martyr for Fashion

The other night I went to the basement to do a quick load of laundry before bed. I gathered up a small pile of clothes that had been sitting on the floor and began to place them into the washing machine when suddenly, a gigantic brown spider hopped out of a sweater, landed on the lip of the washer, and crawled into the tub with the rest of my dirty laundry. I screamed audibly, did a quick little heebie-jeebie dance, dropped the rest of the clothes on the floor, and ran upstairs as fast as humanly possible.

I can't stress it enough: I hate spiders. But I do admit I have a laissez-faire attitude towards them, and won't kill one unless it's absolutely necessary. So I felt a small amount of remorse for the little guy's impending doom, but there was no possible way I was reaching into that tub with my bare hands to get him out, and I really did need to wash that load of clothes.

Despite not being a huge fan of creepy crawlies himself, Derek helped me load the rest of my clothes into the washer (read: he loaded the clothes while I stood behind him, shuddering and biting my fingernails). He named our spider Sam, and we bid our goodbyes as he turned on the machine. I actually did feel bad about drowning the poor guy. Derek giving him a cute little name didn't help matters, but we did what we had to do, I told myself.

Fast forward to the following morning. I forced myself to go down to the basement to transfer the wet clothing to the dryer. Though I knew he'd surely be dead, I had visions of a four-foot tall monster spider coming to get his revenge, grabbing onto me and dunking me headfirst into the washing machine, leaving me to drown in soapy water. Luckily, that didn't happen. I shook out each piece of clothing slowly and carefully, and was halfway through when I shook out a long-sleeved tee and a small shriveled spider carcass came tumbling out, making a sick clink sound as it hit the inside of the tub. I screamed again, slammed the door of the dryer, leaving half of my wet laundry still sitting in the washer, and ran upstairs.

Sam may have been dead, but he did end up getting his revenge.

Image: JellyNYC.com