Jump up (probably yelp), brush it off, make it die.
Sometimes, I give them a chance by flushing them live down the toilet. But they need to go. Far far away. Preferably as corpses.
I’d flick it off. No worries. No matter indoors or outdoors - I dislike flies, and spiders eat flies.
But waking up covered in hundreds of baby spiders, like in the post above? Yeah, that’d freak me out. That’d freak most people out.
Me: brush it off.
Wife: knock it off, run out of house, take off, and nuke the site from orbit.
Freak the hell right out. Then unleash much spider destruction. Or get my husband to do so.
Gah! Scared to death of spiders, me. Mr. Accident, I’d have nuked the house after your incident; it’s the only way to be sure.
Oh yeah . . . aside from the nasty little black jumping spiders, I’d be freaked if it were an unfamiliar small brown spider, 'cause that might be a brown recluse. I don’t really know what they look like (and I won’t go looking at pics, thank you) but I’d rather have a tarantula on me than one of those bloody things.
Step 1:
Flick it onto the ground.
Step 2:
If outside, go about my business.
If inside, introduce him to mister shoe.
Freak/startle for a second, then blow it off.
Spiders are the one harmless bug that unsettles me, although I’m trying to work on that.
Anyone who isn’t afraid of spiders is a jerk. There, I said it.
“I’d photograph it”
“Why would I kill it”
“I’d vote for it”
Alright, we get it. You’re a free spirit. Shut up.
This right here.
Over the weekend, I [del]panicked and suppressed a scream[/del] heroically saved my girlfriend from certain doom when I noticed, mid-conversation, that a rare white-grey spider had appeared on the top of the bedspread right by my face. I froze, stared, and then flung the bedspread as hard as I could so that [del]I wouldn’t be eaten alive by it[/del] my girlfriend wouldn’t need to worry for her safety.
Later, we discovered it again. It was on her t-shirt. It turned out to be a very tiny ball of lint or cat fur. DANGEROUS lint! It’s funny what being awake late and not having your glasses on can do to you.
I would relocate it. If hubby was with me I would have to do it surreptitiously so as not to alarm him.
When it comes to spiders he is the run away and send in reinforcements to kill it. I am typically the reinforcements.
If it is running, I will move fast and likely kill it, as I am too rough…
If it is still, I will move slowly and likely not kill it. I will put it outside or flush it down the toilet.
Basically this, only with less dignity. Spiders make me happy. I would probably relocate to my wall or somewhere nearby where I could watch it crawl around for a while. I love watching the way they move.
Flick it off and step on it. I found a huge, long-legged, black spider in the tub this morning and ran for paper towels which I dropped on it and stomped it good, then looked around for any relatives of his.
Flick it off my knee. I’d probably also gasp or make some sort of ‘eek’ noise.
It really depends on the day. Most of the time it’s flick-it-off-me, or relocate to outdoors. But if I’m feeling nervous it’s scream-like-a-little-girl-and-KILL-KILL-KILL.
Well, I wanted to. Pesky homeland security just wouldn’t let me, something about national security or some such. Personally, I think they’re part of the spiders plot to rule the world.
On an aside, it gave me great reason to move my bed outside and clean under it. The dust bunnies had been hunted to extinction by the dust dinos I found under there.
Move it off me. If inside, hope it will seek out the few roaches we get between our quarterly exterminator visits.
For the record, there is no such thing as a small spider. A spider the size of a thumbtack is not small. It’s enormous. Upon finding one on my knee (or anywhere else on me) I would shriek like a frightened little girl, jump straight up into the air while trying to get it off me. Once it was off me, I would have a suitable burly person smash it with a rock.
I would emigrate to the Offworld Colonies - a new life awaits me there! One, hopefully, free of spiders.
See, I regard the live-flushing thing as a particularly cruel form of execution. Bugs that startle or otherwise annoy me go down the toilet - roaches, beetles, etc. I imagine it combines the worst aspects of being beaten to death with drowning. It’s got to be a horrible end.
Other bugs in my apartment, I try to kill cleanly, or shoo out.
The only bugs that will never, ever come to harm in my apartment are fireflies - I think they’re neat, and I respect all the effort they go to in order to get laid. When a firefly wanders into my apartment, I do everything I can to try and capture it without harm, in order to take it outside and release it. I like to think that I’m playing the part of the little fellow’s wingman.