Reminded of a story...

So surfing around (as I am prone to do) I come across this cute little bit of trickery recounted by Trouble...

I chose door #2. Steve, his co-worker and I loaded into the work hearse (a modified station wagon) to go pick up the recently deceased, who was at a local nursing home....

It's a great story. Just a little bit of boyfriend/girlfriend joking, with the added kicker of a dead/undead person in attendance. Very cute. Happy ending. And then I suddenly remembered some boyfriend/girlfriend trickery I once experienced...

I had gone out on about 8 dates with this guy (let's call him Max). The writing was on the wall, so to speak, that we were not intended to work out. He just didn't get me.

I had pretty much tried to explain to him that no, I didn't want a wine cooler -- I'll have a beer, thanks. If we go somewhere and all of your friends are playing poker or football or pool, count me in! I don't want to go sit with the *other* girlfriends and sip my wine cooler... I can hang. I don't want to sit around and worry about what might happen to my manicure if I decide to play. Let's just play!

I don't do foo-foo stuff. I can build a fire and throw a football. I like jeans. I do not always want to "fix my hair" can you say baseball cap and pony tail? Yeah. I can move furniture and hold my own in a discussion. I can cope with snakes, mice, rats, ghosts, bears, bumps in the night, psycho ex's, car trouble, and vindictive women. I can stand on my own two feet and talk two drunks out of a fight. Hell, I can even hold my own in a fight. I'm all good. There is *one* thing though that gets to me. And anybody who knows me for even a little while can tell you what it is.

Spiders.

I HATE spiders. [Read: am terrified of ::shudder:: spiders.] On TV, in real life, just the thought, in a dream, potential for, sight of, pictures, fakey Halloween, OMG in the petstore?? All of them.

I swear, there are places in my own house that if you held a gun to my head I wouldn't go in. I'm serious. I am totally arachnophobic. It's bad.

So on one of our first dates, this guy (want a wine cooler??) took me to the movies where we saw Home Alone. You remember, the first one with Macaulay Culkin? Yeah. And the part where the pet tarantula is all over they robber guy's face and crawling all around? I am practically under my seat. Hands over my face. Totally freaking out. Ugh.

So later (a bit embarrassed at my "girly girl" behavior) I explain to Max my irrational fear of those eight legged friends scary assed bugs. I mean, I know in my logical mind that they aren't "gonna get me" but whatever. My fight or flight instinct is waaaay stronger than the logic there. Super glue stronger. Call my hubby home from work to kill one, stronger. Oh yes.

So what does this genius do? (Hey, you want a wine cooler?) We go over to a buddy of his' house to watch a movie. No biggie. Hanging out with some of his friends for the evening. Having a couple of cold ones. (I'll have a beer, thanks.)

Unbeknownst to me, his buddy was an entomology major. Meaning, that in the back of his fridge he had large test tubes containing various sorts of live insects... and arachnids... Can you see what is coming next??

So I am kicking back, watching whatever the movie was when Max askes, "Hey, would you like a wine cooler?"

"No, thanks." I replied. "But I'll take a beer if you have one..."

"Oh, right...." he says.

About two minutes later here comes Max. He hands me a beer and very casually sits down. His arm around my shoulders. I lean into him and we are watching the show. Totally relaxed. When from the corner of my eye I see something silvery metallic drop from over my shoulder into my lap. About 6 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. What the??? And it's teeming with spiders. Spiders! Spiders madly crawling all over eachother wanting their freedom and rejoicing in their newfound exposure to light and warmth. SPIDERS!!! In.My.Lap.

AAAAHHHIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Beer flying... Me, ass over teakettle over the back of the couch, launching said "vial of spiders" as far as I could throw while I scrambled backward away faster than is humanly possible - damn near through the wall into the next apartment. (With Max's buddy saying, "Hey! Careful with those!")

Then having the sudden realization that my *date* thought that it would be oh so cute and funny to "scare his new arachnophobic girlfriend" by dropping a vial of freeking spiders into her lap. I grabbed my purse, landed a solid roundhouse punch on the side of Max's smirking head, and walked home.

Yes, he called to apologize.

And yes, I told him to go f*ck himself. One of the best decisions I ever made.... Want a wine cooler? Shouldda known then...