Follow Me On InstaRegret

Follow Me on InstaRegret

I have regrets. But they’re not the kind you might expect. I mean, I married the right person, I finished college, and I have gone 30 years without once attempting to climb Mount Everest (I intend to continue that streak until I die peacefully in my sleep—not horrifically in a YouTube video called “Amateur Climber Accident – WARNING: DEATH”). The regrets I’m talking about don’t happen over the course of a lifetime, they happen instantaneously. It’s a little phenomenon I like to call InstaRegret. Like, say, when you’re window shopping with Wife, and something catches her eye – e.g. the diamond quilt – and you walk into the boutique and realize the only other person in the store is the owner who seems way, way too happy to see you, and you suddenly feel like a Hobbit in a tunnel who is just beginning to notice that the tunnel has lots of spider webs. Like, more spider webs than a Hobbit-friendly tunnel should typically have. That’s InstaRegret. Or, when you ask the hostess if there’s a table with a view of the water, and, since she’s a hostess working the lunch-rush in a pizza restaurant and you’re a guy asking for a nicer table during the lunch-rush in a pizza restaurant, she hates you and seats you in a shared booth next to a couple of giant man-eating spiders. Big time InstaRegret. The only thing worse than InstaRegret is pre-InstaRegret. Like when you’re standing in line at Subway and you lock eyes with the Sandwich Artist and you both know that what is about to happen will be embarrassing for both of you. Embarrassing for you because no Plimoth Plantation Cornucopia of Spinach, Cucumbers, Lettuce, Green Peppers, and Tomatoes is going to make your steak & cheese sub a responsible decision. And embarrassing for the Sandwich Artist because he only had three more credits to go until graduation, but fell into a bad group of wolf spiders, started dealing and smoking web, and failed out of school. Textbook pre-InstaRegret. So what’s the moral of the story? Stay indoors, avoid all human contact, and you probably won’t be eaten by mutant spiders. Probably.

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6 thoughts on “Follow Me On InstaRegret

  1. You seem to have some underlying angst regarding arachnids. Sorry to add to your paranoia, but staying inside won’t help. Exhibit A: Now that it is fall, I avoid evening walks in wooded areas because ’tis the season when a particular type of creepy fat brown spider makes giant webs across everything. You leave for work in the morning and safely pass through the air space between the bushes flanking your front path, and tree branch that overhangs it, only to get entangled like a fly on your return home because it’s now dark and Somebody Has Been Busy Building Their New Home while you were ‘safely’ at work. (‘Safely’ must always be a relative term, with many attached disclaimers and caveats. Hence the quotes.) So I stay inside as much as possible until after we have a few deep freezes. But a few weeks ago, I was watching tv in the otherwise dark, reclining on my sofa, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted something too large moving quickly along the edge of the cushion only four inches from my face. I launched myself from the couch, clear across the room, slapped the light switch on, turned back towards the couch and saw the beast huddled on the corner of a cushion, trying to look smaller – so now it was the size of a Daewoo instead of a Hummer – ran to my bedroom to get a boot, ran back to the sofa and slammed the boot down on the spider (you know how hard it is to force yourself to get CLOSER to one of those things in order to kill it?!) and then squealed in horror as it fell off the couch to the floor, where it promptly disappeared from view because I have spider-colored carpeting. Lucky me. So then I had to run to the hall closet, find my giant mag-light (also good for beating things to death with) and located the spider, which I then ground into a pulp with my booted foot into the carpet. I’m telling you, had I not found it, I would have had to get another apartment and move out. I spent the rest of the night in bed with the light on. I did not sleep. So beware the sham security of the indoors. They’re everywhere. Sorry this was so long but dude, I was seriously freaked out. And will be for at least the next five years. Clearly I’m not ready to read other people’s blog posts about spiders. *twitches*

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’m really digging these epic comments. It’s like a blog within a blog. Blog-ception? P.S. – The image of you running to your closet to get your mag-light made me LOL

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      • I kept it PG by not typing all the bad words I was using at the time. Some of which may have been in other languages that I don’t even speak. PS- I love that your mom is giving you blog props!

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