The spider that wasn't | Tuesday, October 17, 2006 |
Most of our post is delivered to the PO Box that we established when we first arrived at the post office local to my office. A few items come to the apartment, but most of what is in the post box here is junk mail.
I go down and clear out the box a couple of times a week lest the lobby be innundated with adverts for real estate, or dwarf pilates, or whatever.
It's just a locked letter box, so when I put my hand in there the other day, grapsed the sheaf of papers and withdrew I was more than startled to find a large, black, furry spider lurking there.
I'm not good with spiders. Nasty, hairy, malevolent little buggers. At least in the UK none of them score high on the lethality rankings, so you can probably envisage the leaping and swearing directed at the mail box.
Imagine too, the choice language directed at Chiswick Plumbing, who thoughtfully popped a laminated plastic bookmark advertising their services, complete with black, hairy tassel into the letter box some days previously.
I go down and clear out the box a couple of times a week lest the lobby be innundated with adverts for real estate, or dwarf pilates, or whatever.
It's just a locked letter box, so when I put my hand in there the other day, grapsed the sheaf of papers and withdrew I was more than startled to find a large, black, furry spider lurking there.
I'm not good with spiders. Nasty, hairy, malevolent little buggers. At least in the UK none of them score high on the lethality rankings, so you can probably envisage the leaping and swearing directed at the mail box.
Imagine too, the choice language directed at Chiswick Plumbing, who thoughtfully popped a laminated plastic bookmark advertising their services, complete with black, hairy tassel into the letter box some days previously.
