Saturday morning, the problem had arrived. An eight-legged monster had scuttled into our home and declared war on its residences; making Saturday a dark day because the spider won. After the incident drastic measures were taken; the girls I live with began to pee in packs and before showering a text would be circulated around the household notifying everyone that the bathroom is temporarily out of bounds because showering with the door open seemed safer than being trapped with the beast.

After contacting everyone in our periphery, my housemates finally accepted the harsh reality that no one was going to come and deal with the situation. So we did what anyone else would do, ran away, and camped out at uni for as long as was humanly possible. I ended up having a productive day, I completed my dissertation, googled harmless ways to make spiders leave without having to go near them and what life would be like for young immigrants in China.

I also spoke to one of my friends from computing, who seemed to be taking pride and joy in the fact that he was making me feel much, much worse. After I sent him a picture of it, he said that it was big enough to put on a leash and take for walks and that I should name it, but most importantly, he made it clear that there was no way in hell that he was coming over to my house to get rid of it. All whilst subtly affirming the fact that he wasn’t scared of spiders, he simply did not like them. Not only had I become practically homeless, but as the day went on I became an orphan too because my father said that embarking on a two-hour drive to come and deal with the situation was barbaric. My computing friend went on to joke that my name could be considered as a synonym for dramatic and started to ignore me. Honestly, what is the point of toxic masculinity if instead of coming to your house and dealing with the spider situation, they just start ignoring your messages until you’ve dealt with it yourself because its the easiest way to admit that they are not scared. He is the epitome of the modern man and a moron.

A few days later the spider was spotted and our bravest housemate was nominated to do the deed:

‘Just squish it’

The spider was flattened by a shoe and still managed to conjure up the strength to squeeze out and attempt a quick getaway.

‘Oh my god, the spider has been resurrected, it could be the second coming of Christ, bitch we just tried to kill Jesus.’

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