The Shower Spider Story
Firstly, the shower spider is not a real division of the arachnid family, I coined it myself after I leapt into shower county to cleanse the days toil.
OK so I’ve lit a few candles, dimmed the lights and put some suitable whale noises on rotation (I think one of them was Orca killer whale but I can’t be certain as they’d mixed in some dolphins and seagulls). I leapt into the showering unit and I turned on the spray. All was going well ... all was going very very well.
Suddenly, as if a whisper had passed my nose, I began to think I was not alone. I checked East, nothing, I checked West - zilch, I checked East again and still nothing ... I didn’t check West any more - there was no need. Then the strangest feeling crept over me, what if some-thing was stood behind me (technically South). I span ‘round like a chicken on the spit ... nothing!
... dare you read on?
I turned back to face the controls and eased a little bit more warmth to ease my tepid brow. I sang along to the beautiful tones of a seagull family passing over a rocky cliff (I imagined that bit) but the feeling came back.
I can’t explain precisely how I knew but I just knew - I knew that an incredibly huge spider was sat proud of me, almost touching my heel - watching as I operated with hair products. Never before have I cleared such a distance so sparingly clothed. I practically leapt twice my own body height.
Soaking wet with gel in my eyes and a segment of coral wedged in my ear I stared at the spider. He wasn’t budging, and seemed impervious to my stature (it was a beautiful site ... for the spider). There was only one option to me; flush the fella down the plug hole. I grasped the spraying tool and began pelting him. He stood like a statue as the water bounced off his chest. It took a good while but he eventually yielded, curling up into a tiny little ball of hair he flew at about a thousand miles an hour toward the sink. I saw him slip beyond the plug holes and he disappeared into the drain. But, like all good movies (mainly Spiderman) he managed to somehow catch himself underneath the holes and grip on like some kind of freakish super spider.
Impressive, I thought. I rotated the nozzle to ‘rock hard spray’ and gunned at the little might as he stuck himself upside down with all 8’s. The fight lasted most of the night with much shouting and tom foolery but eventually he slipped on a litre of gel I splattered at him and span down towards drainsville. That’s right, I didn’t fight fair.
“AAaarrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!” he cried as he span out of control, defeated at the hands of an old master.
Success!
I was never going to share my shower with a spider, at least not on that specialist day.
Shaken, but not quite stirred, I proceeded with my beauty treatment until I was ready to pepper my back with a towel. But then, as I concluded my session, I had the same nagging doubt. That horrible creeping feeling. Yes, the same super shower spider had climbed all of the way back up the pipe and was sat precisely in the same ‘heel’ position as before - ready to beat my arse.
Unfortunately for him he must have been a bit jaded as the merest spot of water knocked him flying up in the air and down the plug hole in one.
I feel a bit sorry for him now - but at the end of the day, it was me or him.*

*No spider was hurt during this incident.