Pants around my ankles and six foot spiders

Years ago I went for the “quit smoking” shot.  Honestly, looking back on it now I could have taken that money and flushed it down the toilet…..or I could have had my tattoo touched up.  There!  I’m a tattooed, smoking lewd woman – please feel free to go if this offends you, but the story is so worth the read.  

Soooo…we decide that since the weather was beautiful that we would go to the boat after I flushed the money down the toilet got the shot so I could recover there.  The drugs they use for this procedure are the ones found in your local asylums.  Mind altering drugs that all end in -ine (thorazine, etc). Not going to bore you with the procedure so ON TO THE SIX FOOT SPIDERS!

People hallucinate on this stuff (one couple did it together and sold all of their furniture, gave their pet away, sold their cars and moved out of their house to live under a bridge in a box – I kid you not). I get back to the boat and sleep for a little while and when I wake up I go to the hallway bath and sit down (my boat – I sit down and don’t even use a cover on the seat.  I’m crazy like that).  Elbows on knees, chin in my hands playing the waiting game.  You know the one ladies…  I am eye level with the top step of the extra bedroom and I start to focus on a black spot on the carpet for about an hour a few seconds.  All of a sudden a HUGE black spider jumps (and I mean jumps with a whole lot of mutha f’in purpose) from the step to stand right in front of me.  (I have goose bumps typing this, bleh).

I JUMP off of the toilet and run out of the bathroom (tying in the title of this post:  PANTS AROUND MY ANKLES), screaming, through the kitchen, screaming passing my husband on the way.  “SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!!!!!!!!!!!”  My protective husband begins to run after me to protect me from this awful creature chasing me because he hates spiders more than I do.  I would have been better off yelling something about a snake or Hillary Clinton not dropping out of the race if I really wanted him to protect me.

I still can’t use that bathroom when we go up to the boat even though when I “sobered up” I looked at the step where the spider was and found an inch long piece of black thread there……  My husband left it there to prove to our friends that I am crazy.

Other experiences during this time of being whacked out and jacked up:

The ceiling moved.  Not just shifted, but like a wave machine.  

I made coffee at 7pm thinking it was the first thing in the morning wondering why my husband was at the counter eating and steak and mashed potatoes.  Nice job sport!  You don’t eat dinner for breakfast (rolling my eyes at him).

I think I will step outside for a smoke now.  


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