I talked him into doing some painting for the place I work for much less than he usually makes, because he’s a nice guy and it makes me look good. So this morning I was helping him find his stepladder. I thought it was in the storage room so I went to the basement and untied the door to the room and stepped inside.
Let’s back up a little. About a month ago we started having a HUGE spider problem. By HUGE I mean enormous FAST spiders. He put down some spider trap glue paper across the inside of the doorway, 3 feet long and about a foot wide. It is very very sticky and hits the spiders with an anesthesia of some kind to numb them as they struggle to get free.
He tied the door shut with numerous knots and loops. I was thinking that when I stepped in it would be dark because the cord to the light was unplugged and I’d have to be careful. But by the time I’d untangled the rope, I completely forgot about the sticky paper and stepped onto it with both feet.
I looked down and saw all the rotting spider bodies and my shoes firmly attach to the same sticky paper and all I could do was to yell for Nick. He heard me from outside the house. I didn’t look down as he tried to free my shoes by pulling the paper away as I pulled my shoes up. It didn’t work.
I was stuck.
I did some deep breathing between anxious shrieks and asked him to take my shoes off. There was no way I could do this myself without getting down close to the morbid little eight legged carasses. He freed my feet and I left the room without looking back.
That was my idea of Hell. Being glued to something covered in spiders. It’s a good thing he didn’t tell me about the mouse until later on.