Death Becomes Her

If anyone knows me well, he/she knows that I'm deathly afraid of spiders. I can't even look at a movie with them, let alone see one live. I'm washing clothes so I had to go back downstairs to dry my last load. As I get to the bottom of the stairs, right before my eyes is a big assed black spider. Let's say his leg span was about the circumference of a silver dollar. I FREAKED RIGHT THERE. Almost busted my dome wide the fuck open because "spidy" wanna chill where I got to go. Mind you, I'm only wearing socks and the floor is that new-aged matte lanolin type shit. My choices are, do I buss my head or do I let this little black fucker take my bravery away? Will I bitch out in front of "spidy" or will I slip, fall, and die right there in a laundry room basement with dirty socks on, some wrinkled sweatpants and a Army shirt (in the heart of gay DC) on a Thursday? Not the best idea. So I close my eyes (cuz imma jump over this muhfukka), tense up and jump my big ass as far as I could. How bout I slip into the laundry room door and just cleared my skull. My heart was beating out of my chest. At this point I was proud of my feat, but a sista aint think that she had to make it back (upstairs). Fuck! Jump again big girl! Jump again! I did. And slid (but I aint hurt myself that time). When I turned around, that bastard was right behind me! Why did I haul ass (two steps at a time) upstairs until I got up to my door, which is two stories up. I got back inside and figured I had to tell yall. I almost died playing Jackie Joyner Kirsey in the basement fucking wiff "spidy's" ass. That's funny yung.