My -literally- Worst Nightmare Came True... And It Happened at Meijers

Now, given my penchant for the melodramatic, and my extreme hatred of all things Meijer, you might think I am exaggerating with the title -and topic- of this post.

Oh, how I wish I was.

Ask anyone who knows me what my worst fear is. SPIDERS. No joke. I am talking paralyzing, cold sweat, shaking, all encompassing, phobic terror. I literally have nightmares about them.

So Dave gets into bed the other night and looks at me, all serious "we need to talk" like. "I've been debating whether I should tell you this," he began.

He was in Meijers, doing the grocery shopping. He picked up a bunch of bananas and turned them over, as he always does, to inspect the back side of the bunch for bruising. "It freaked me out so much I threw the bananas on the floor and jumped back," he said. You guessed it. There was a spider, a "big fucking spider," hiding amongst the bananas. I was horrified. "What did you do?", I asked.

"I threw the bananas. I just threw them down."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"What do you mean?"

I felt very strongly that Dave should have alerted the authorities, or at least the produce manager. I mean, a large, black, hairy and quite possibly deadly spider made his way from some tropical island all the way to Pittsfield Township, Michigan, and is now on the loose in Meijers. Somebody should know.

Anyway, I thought the old "spider in the bananas"story was the stuff of urban legends. Apparently, it is not, and I am now truly terrified to buy bananas. I steel my nerve, approaching the display slowly. I breathe deeply and make the Sign of the Cross. I whisper to JD, hanging placidly in the Bjorn, to brace himself. I start to shake, but I know my mission.

I stand back, maintaining as much distance as possible from the banana case. (Those bastards can jump, you know.) I open the plastic produce bag and hold it in my left hand, my arm fully extended. I scope out the display for the bunch of bananas that appears least likely to be harboring a rogue tarantula. Then I bend at the waist and, grimacing, quickly and carefully lift my bunch and turn it around. I throw it into the bag as fast as I possibly can and tie the bag up tightly. Then I set the bag down in the cart and gingerly poke the bananas apart, just to be sure that the spider is not hiding in the middle of the bunch. People look at me like I am a lunatic. "Spiders, " I explain. They nod and quicken their step. It is truly an ordeal.

It just figures that this would happen at Meijers. Holy GOD do I hate that store.