I Blame Charlotte

Charlotte A. Cavatica, that is. If I hadn’t grown up loving that book and movie, none of this would have happened.

I don’t kill spiders. I actually don’t kill most bugs with the exception of house flies, which are just uncatchable, and anything that stings or bites, like mosquitoes. But in particular, I don’t kill spiders. They’re good bugs! They eat flies.

That doesn’t mean they get free run of my kitchen, however, and when I find them, I take them outside. I was pondering linner (it’s like brunch, only later) when I saw one scuttle across the counter. I reached for the nearest container, which happened to be a glass tea light holder. With the help of a paper towel, I succeeded in trapping her in a manner conducive to carrying her outside. Because I was pretty occupied with the spider, I didn’t grab my keys, just unlocked the door to my apartment, and stuck my feet into the nearest pair of shoes, which happened to be three inch pumps.

You know where this is going, don’t you?

So I got outside and let her go and, because I wasn’t paying attention, I let the outer door that led to the pool area swing shut behind me. This was a mistake. Because of the way my building works, you need an electronic fob to open both the gate that lets you into the pool area and all of the doors from the pool area into the building proper. So yes, my apartment door was helpfully unlocked, but I couldn’t reach it because I was trapped in the pool area wearing a tee shirt, skirt, high heels and nothing on my head.

So I did what any sensible person would do. I waited. After about five minutes of waiting and no one appearing–either in the pool area on their way inside or in the corridor on their way outside–who could let me in, I got bored and began to ponder alternatives.

I live on the first floor, overlooking the pool. If I stood by my window, I could actually see my keys on the chair, which only added insult to injury. If I could just get the screen out of the way, I might be able to reach down and…

I did manage to take the screen off from the outside (this would be a far more disturbing prospect if the area said window overlooked was not locked with the building key) and then discovered that I could not reach the key from the outside. So there went that plan.

But wait. I had the screen out of the way; I could just climb through the window, right?

The window is waist level on the inside but it was about a foot and a half higher on the outside, due to the pool deck being lower than my floor. Oh, and the area under the windows was lined with plants. That my heels were sinking into.

All I needed to do was lift myself up over the window sill and through the opening. There were three problems with this plan. One was that the table with my computer on it was right in front of the window. Two was that the grooves of the window frame were a less than pleasant thing to push down on. And three is that I have the upper arm strength of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Still, I braced myself on the window sill, used the side of the building to push myself up (if you have to climb through a window in heels, I highly recommend Aerosoles, just by the way) and managed to pull myself over onto the table without even touching the computer. My arms were (are) less than thrilled with me. It’s a sturdy table, though.

Then I replaced the screen and breathed a sigh of relief.

Less than a minute later, one of the other residents walked through the pool gate.



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2 responses to “I Blame Charlotte

  1. Maya

    Hey- you aerated the plant bed! It’s good for grass- I presume it might also be good for other plants?

  2. Abba

    Cute story. I’m glad you sought rehabilitation for the insect.
    Love you, Abba

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