I love cold coffee if it has a lot of flavored creamer in it. So when I woke up from a nap, I reached for my half-full, humongous coffee mug to take a big slug of it. As I pulled it away from my mouth, something caught my eye. At first I thought it was a dead fly. Uggh! Then my stomach turned over as I watched with increasing horror as the live, partially submerged black spider began to swim toward the side of the mug.
When my husband came to see what all of the banging and screeching was about, he looked at the contents of the mug and double checked to see if I wanted him to throw it out.
I was going out to visit my lover’s other lover (we’re in an open relationship). I had met this woman before, liked her a lot, but had never really spent much time with her. This is at her house, a party with her friends, and I’m a bit nervous.
I show up an hour late, exhausted to the point of incoherence, due to a sudden snowstorm and attendant traffic problems. Everyone else is happy and tipsy from a large quantity of alcoholic eggnog.
She’s been keeping the last of the eggnog hot for me, but since there was only a single serving left, it had overheated and cooked the eggnog, separating it out into curded mess, oil, and alcohol. She’s clearly embarrassed, I’m underwhelmed but eager to smooth the situation, so I say it’s fine. She finds a cup and pours me a mugful.
I’ve forced about half of it down when I realize that what I had thought was a piece of clove used to spice the eggnog was, in fact, a cockaroach that had previously crawled into said cup to die.
Result: she was mortified, I felt ill, the evening was not a success. Fourtunately, we’ve hung out since then and I still think she’s excellently cool. Awkward moment, though.
I can’t top the cockroach story, but perhaps I can equal it. One holiday season, back when I used to eat sweets with abandon, I was halfway through a slice of yummy pumpkin pie when I noticed it contained an inert, well cooked, orangey-tan, bug-like entity about 1/4" in length.
