I went to take a bunch of stuff to storage this afternoon, and I got to the building I needed to enter. Parked, got out of the car, headed toward the back so I could unload my stuff…
BIG FAT GIANT NASTY PUTRID (DEAD) PALMETTO BUG / COCKROACH THE SIZE OF A
JAPANESE TITANUS GIGANTEUS BEETLE! RIGHT! IN! MY! PATH! (If I’da had my camera, y’all would be appalled, APPALLED right now and jumping back from your computer screens in sheer terror.) UPDATE: (Just so y’all know, it was almost three inches long and about an INCH FAT.)
So what did I do? I got back in the car, of course. Quickly. Locked the doors, because you know those monstrously giant dead palmetto bugs, they’re really good at working those door handles. Seatbelted up, turned the car back on, drove around a building to get pretty much back to the same spot, except one building behind where I had started. Because see, I can go in the next building (we’re in air conditioned storage), walk through a corridor, open a door, walk through two more corridors and end up at my unit. Sure, it’s a bit farther, but there are no BIG FAT GIANT NASTY PUTRID (DEAD) PALMETTO BUGS / COCKROACHES THE SIZE OF TITANUS GIGANTEUS BEETLES! RIGHT! IN! MY! PATH! if I take that route. So it was a no-brainer for SarahK: Big Fat Chicken.
Oh, get this, ladies. I’m sure y’all can relate. It’s so funny, because Frank and I are both total slobs. But closets? I want those totally organized, or I get really stressed out. Storage units? You should see how awesomely I have organized this thing. So yesterday I sent Frank over there with a 2-drawer file cabinet. Short little thing, doesn’t take up much space. I opened the unit today, and there it was, looking like he’d just haphazardly tossed it on top of our kitchen table legs. And there was all this unused floor space (because of my awesome organizational skills). But the file cabinet was teetering haphazardly. I rolled my eyes and moved it to a better spot.
Frank *says* it must have fallen when he picked up some boxes, because he’s sure he put it on solid ground. (Yeah.)
So when I was leaving, I had to shut the main door that I was using (not the easy access door, but the door *away* from the BIG FAT GIANT NASTY PUTRID (DEAD) PALMETTO BUG / COCKROACH THE SIZE OF A TITANUS GIGANTEUS BEETLE! RIGHT! IN! MY! PATH!). Well. The little rope that holds the door open? Had a visitor. A little spider had decided to take up residence right where I would have had to grab the rope to take it off the door handle. So I spent the next two or three minutes using my foot, grabbing the rope at weird spots, nudging the door, and practically holding my leg over my head trying to get the stupid rope to let go of the door handle so I did not have to go anywhere near that dumb spider. And I’m perfectly fine with spiders. They used to crawl on my walls when I lived in Amarillo and had my window cracked for the swamp cooler, and I just got used to them. I’m fine seeing them. But I’m not okay with them being near my hands, and it is definitely Frank’s job to handle up on them when they’re in the house.
And you know what? I’m sure the manager was watching me on the surveillance cameras the whole time and laughing his butt off at me.
UPDATE: Patriot Xeno pointed out in the comments that I had my terminology wrong. See, I went to camp in West Texas where we saw every possible kind of beetle imaginable, and “they” always just told us that these beetles of all varieties were Japanese beetles. So anyway, now I’ve been schooled, in the comments (not in email where I would have preferred, *ahem*, and I’m pretty sure at least the body structure I was trying to convey.