Dangers in the Workplace

The other day I was perched at my desk deeply engrossed in a search engine strategy webinar, when out of the corner of my eye I see my co-worker Val coming towards my desk.

Since Val only visits my desk when she has something cute to show me, like a picture of a chipmunk or a newspaper article about kittens, I was not prepared for the dramatic events that were about to unfold.

I swivelled around in my chair, greeting Val with a big smile, only to see that she was pointing at the floor under my chair.

Oh, I thought to myself, she's noticed my new shoes. They were, after all, the adorable dark purple kitten-heel slides that Steve Madden had mailed to me the day before.

Looking down so that I could join in on the admiration and adoration of the newest addition to my shoe family, I was startled to discover that Val was actually pointing at the world’s largest spider loitering under my chair.

Weighing in at a size similar to that of an adult ferret, it was clear to me that this was no ordinary spider. This was one of those ferret-spider hybrids genetically engineered by the government to increase the cost of fuel.

I lunged out of my chair avoiding the 3 foot radius around its base. Maintaining a safe distance, I managed to edge my thick spiral notebook off of my desk while formulating a plan.

“Stand back!” I shouted gallantly as I threw my arm in front of Val to shield her from the unpleasantness that was about to ensue.

Val shrunk against the wall behind her, frozen in a timid pose of sheer terror.

Clutching the spiral notebook with both hands, I lifted it high over my head and swung down it on top of the spider with such a momentous force that fatal arachnid injuries had surely resulted.

I carefully peeled the notebook off the floor preparing to see carnage. But instead of guts, I was faced with a live spider - and he was madder than ever.

I shrieked and reeled backward. Val cried out and started to claw at the wall in an apparent attempt to scale it.

Val and I looked at each other helplessly. Then it hit me. (An idea hit me, the spider didn’t hit me).

“You stay here and watch where it goes! I’ll be back”.

I sprinted to the staff washroom to rummage through the toiletry basket. Arriving back at my desk, Val let me know that the spider hadn’t moved. I held up a large can of hairspray and smiled.

“Hairspray?” Val asked doubtfully.

“Yes.” I replied. “I read this in a magazine once. The hairspray makes it stick to itself." I crouched back under the desk and started spraying with the fury of an 80’s hairstylist.

I could hear Val coughing as a haze of hairspray enveloped us. “Is it dead?” she shouted. I popped my head out from under the desk.

“Um… no... but it has great hair?”

It was at that point that a male coworker, who wishes to remain anonymous, finally came around the corner to see what the commotion was.

Val and I stood sheepishly in the hairspray cloud and pointed at the sticky spider wobbling drunkenly around under the desk. The male coworker, who wishes to remain anonymous, sighed and shook his head disapprovingly. He plucked a tissue from my Kleenex box and crawled under the desk, returning moments later with the spider corpse in the tissue. He shook his head again and dropped the tissue in my garbage.

“Darren!” I exclaimed.

I mean...

“Male coworker, who wishes to remain anonymous!” I exclaimed. “It’s going to come back to life and attack me if you leave it in there!”

“No. It won’t.” He rolled his eyes and walked away.

"You can't be sure unless you flush it..." I pleaded. But he was already gone.

Now, I’m no expert on spider bites… and it could have been the two cans of Tab I shot-gunned after lunch… but I felt a little off after that.

I certainly hope, for the sake of my co-workers, that I don't turn into Spiderman.

His outfit is terrible.

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Thanks for enjoying these deep thoughts with Meghan.