The last final has been taken, the last paper has been written and I am done, done done (at least until tomorrow when I start two summer classes)!

I still, however, had to move out, a task I was dreading because of the ordeal it was last year. I decided to make things easier by planning ahead — so last Thursday I headed over to my friendly neighborhood Hyvee to pick up a few cardboard boxes.

I was directed to the produce section and ushered into a back room by a man named Nick. He brought me to a tall stack of banana boxes, and I asked, "So do I have to worry about any — uh, stowaways?"

I expected him to laugh jovially, but no. He got serious. "Oh yeah — you'll probably want to shake them out before you go. Sometimes tarantulas or scorpions show up in there."
!!!
Picture
Those who have read my blog before know that I hate HATE scorpions. It's my only phobia. It started when I watched "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" when I was a little kid — you know what I'm talking about, the scene where the scorpion murders the ant? F***** terrifying.

What scares me the most is that those suckers are almost impossible to kill. If a scorpion can survie a nuclear apocalypse, then it could definitely hijack a ride in MY banana box.

I broke into a sweat while walking the boxes to my car. The holes on the side of the boxes were menacing; inside was thin white paper wrapped with plastic. I was certain I would feel a sting before collapsing to the ground while shrieking like a girl.

I put the boxes into my car. Two of them were on the front seat next to me. I thought I heard a rustle as I got in, and my bowels threatened to release. I reminded myself that I was, in fact, a male.

I made it a minute of driving before my involuntary and sweaty palms nearly caused me to run over an 80-year old juggling four sacks of groceries on top of a motor scooter. 

I pulled over into the corner of the parking lot and shot out of the car, quickly looking around to make sure that I wouldn't unintentionally be the subject of a hit viral video. Then I threw those banana boxes to the ground, where I watched like a hawk for the menacing claw of a sadistic arachnid. I spent the next ten minutes alternating between being terrified and then furiously emptying out the banana-scented boxes onto the pavement and stomping their contents just to make sure.

Thankfully, I didn't uncover any of the little bastards (although a shriveled brown banana nearly caused me to crap my pants). The sturdy boxes worked great for hauling things — but honestly, I think next time I'll just go to Walmart. They don't have scorpions in China, right? RIGHT?!
 


Comments




Leave a Reply