With the expectation that the subway (TTC) would be delayed, which is nothing new during Monday morning rush hour, I happily grabbed a seat before the rush of people entered. I settled in and continued reading A Glittering Chaos by Canadian author Lisa de Nikolits.
Out of the corner of my eye, on the right hand side, I saw movement. My eyes began to adjust and refocus where it was once my peripheral view. To my horrified surprise there was a spider connected from the young asian girl’s coat (who was fast asleep) to my parka! Jolted, I quickly moved away from the creepy crawly causing its web to break. That’s right. In that short amount of time sitting next to the girl, this spider managed to loosely form a string of web between us. It had taken everything in me not to scream. My irrational fear and HUGE phobia of spiders was kicking in. The spider swung across to the girl and latched onto her coat. Clearly, it had manifested a home there previously.
The girl remained unfazed and unmoved. Caught in a dilemma, I wasn’t sure if I should wake her, all the while embarrassing myself in front of onlookers. Ignorance is bliss, right? I didn’t wake her. Soon the spider was back on the move. It began crawling down her arm onto her leg that was closest to me. Aggressively moving faster and faster, circling underneath her thigh – down to her knee cap – until finally it was on the subway floor.
Now, intently watching it, the spider continued to walk in a circle that was a rapidly rounding motion, coming closer and closer to my boot. “How the hell does a spider get onto the subway?” I thought to myself. “It must have been attached to her coat the entire time.”
I knew I had to step on it. The men sitting across from me were also keeping an eye on the eight-legged phenomenon. One of them was desperately trying to keep up with the conversation he and his friend were having, but you could tell he was more focused on what the spider was doing. Due to the curved sole of my Sorel (winter boot) my attempt to squash the creature had failed, and I had accidentally kicked it towards the man. Soon, it became a game of soccer. We were both gently pushing the spider away from us, so that it began moving back and forth, back and forth. Finally, having survived all this commotion, the spider began crawling towards the other end of the subway car.
That was the last I had seen of it. I’ve never seen a spider prior to or since roaming around on the TTC.