A spider has recently taken up resident in the right mirror of my car. I discovered it lived there after I crashed into its efforts at a web while opening the passenger door of my vehicle about 2 weeks ago. Rather annoying that. But then, I have crashed into countless spider webs in my time on this earth and this was just one of many. I didn't really pay it much mind, until I went back to my car a day later and noticed after getting into my car that the web was back. It was then that I realized the spider had taken residence behind the mirror itself. Its of the modern construction, with a full plastic shield protecting the electric motors within that allow me the driver to adjust it at whim from the safe confines of my car. A convenience of no real importance to me, as I almost never have a reason TOO adjust the mirror, having done so the moment I purchased the car and first sat in the drivers chair. But this superficial and irrelevant convenience that probably only exists to make a selling point for desperate car salesman was of infinite importance to the spider. For you see, the spider used the protection of the space behind the mirror as a home base of sorts. The engineering for protecting the electric motors that adjusted the mirror was apparently also useful for protecting a spider.
This became apparent to me because as I have to commute downtown on the interstate, I simply assumed that the spider would eventually get blown away and if it survived being ejected from the region of my car at highway speed, would (I hoped) find a home somewhere else. And if not, well, its just a spider and we squish them all the time. Not that important. But this spider was clever, and also probably mostly nocturnal. As I usually drive in the day, it was rare for me to see it. In the rare times I did, I just left it alone, started my car as usual and set off down the highway. By whatever senses it possessed, the spider inevitably took the increased flow of air of my car moving down the driveway and onto the road as its cue to take shelter immediately behind the mirror. In my more absent minded moments, I wondered if it actually thought about it at all, or if this was just some instinctual reflex on its part. Either way, by the time I hit the interstate and the flow of air accelerated to over 60 miles per hour, the spider was safely ensconced behind my cars mirror, protected by technology it had no reference or means of understanding, other then the fact that it could protect it.
This went on for two weeks, up until today, when once more, I drove to work. Only this time, I was amazed to see the spider had created a web aligned perfectly with the aerodynamics of my car. Though I hit maximum highway speeds, the webs anchors were protected by the mirror itself blocking the air flow, and the natural aerodynamics of my car. I reached my work place with the web largely intact. By the fates of difficult clients (who the spider also could never know of) It was after sundown that I finally got back to my car. And it was then I had observed the spider sitting in the very center of the web that had survived miles of travel down a freeway. By this time I had become used to seeing its efforts, and even taken some small happiness in seeing the web magically reappear every time I came back to my car. Even taking small delight in seeing its hunting was successful. But needs must, and I needed to go places. In this case a nearby bar to have an after work hangout with a coworker. As I started driving, I glanced over at the spider web, with honest concern. And sure enough, the spider ducked behind the mirror of my car as I started to speed up. One cheeseburger and a beer later I am back at my car, and sure enough, there is the spider. Back in the center of its now very battered web. It was quite impressive that despite all the abuse put upon it today, for the first time in weeks the web was actually intact after all my driving around. Usually it was gone by this point.
So I decided that tonight I would be magnanimous. The little thing had clearly put a ton of effort into its web this time. I would not go onto the interstate, but instead take city streets home. It would add 15 minutes to my journey, but eh, small inconvenience. The fastest I would have to go would be 35 Miles per hour, as opposed to the more intense 70. For some reason this trip I actually paid far more attention to what was going on. Even though I was on city streets, it was clear the web could no longer take anymore abuse. After a 5 minute stint at 40 Miles Per Hour (who actually follows the speed limit perfectly) I was stopped by a red light. I glanced over and the web had fallen apart and there was the spider, clinging desperately to the few strands that remained. It was gathering them up, and retreating slowly, too slowly, back towards the mirror. The Light turned green. I was suddenly compelled by forces even I could not control. I could not stay stopped. I had to go. The "order of things" demanded I go. But if I did, and accelerated up to the accepted speed limit, I knew that would be it for the spider that had lived in my cars mirror for the last 2 weeks. After a few seconds of indecision, I started to move. Slowly. No doubt to the absolute consternation of the person behind me. The spider continued its desperate retreat even as I slowly moved foreword, accelerating only enough to make the person behind me wonder if I actually am going or not. Eventually, the spider escaped back into the protection of the mirror and I hit the accelerator and went up to the speed limit. Bending the rules of the road to the breaking point because I had decided some insignificant spider was worth it.
It was then that I wondered that if there was a God, this is what he felt like.
This became apparent to me because as I have to commute downtown on the interstate, I simply assumed that the spider would eventually get blown away and if it survived being ejected from the region of my car at highway speed, would (I hoped) find a home somewhere else. And if not, well, its just a spider and we squish them all the time. Not that important. But this spider was clever, and also probably mostly nocturnal. As I usually drive in the day, it was rare for me to see it. In the rare times I did, I just left it alone, started my car as usual and set off down the highway. By whatever senses it possessed, the spider inevitably took the increased flow of air of my car moving down the driveway and onto the road as its cue to take shelter immediately behind the mirror. In my more absent minded moments, I wondered if it actually thought about it at all, or if this was just some instinctual reflex on its part. Either way, by the time I hit the interstate and the flow of air accelerated to over 60 miles per hour, the spider was safely ensconced behind my cars mirror, protected by technology it had no reference or means of understanding, other then the fact that it could protect it.
This went on for two weeks, up until today, when once more, I drove to work. Only this time, I was amazed to see the spider had created a web aligned perfectly with the aerodynamics of my car. Though I hit maximum highway speeds, the webs anchors were protected by the mirror itself blocking the air flow, and the natural aerodynamics of my car. I reached my work place with the web largely intact. By the fates of difficult clients (who the spider also could never know of) It was after sundown that I finally got back to my car. And it was then I had observed the spider sitting in the very center of the web that had survived miles of travel down a freeway. By this time I had become used to seeing its efforts, and even taken some small happiness in seeing the web magically reappear every time I came back to my car. Even taking small delight in seeing its hunting was successful. But needs must, and I needed to go places. In this case a nearby bar to have an after work hangout with a coworker. As I started driving, I glanced over at the spider web, with honest concern. And sure enough, the spider ducked behind the mirror of my car as I started to speed up. One cheeseburger and a beer later I am back at my car, and sure enough, there is the spider. Back in the center of its now very battered web. It was quite impressive that despite all the abuse put upon it today, for the first time in weeks the web was actually intact after all my driving around. Usually it was gone by this point.
So I decided that tonight I would be magnanimous. The little thing had clearly put a ton of effort into its web this time. I would not go onto the interstate, but instead take city streets home. It would add 15 minutes to my journey, but eh, small inconvenience. The fastest I would have to go would be 35 Miles per hour, as opposed to the more intense 70. For some reason this trip I actually paid far more attention to what was going on. Even though I was on city streets, it was clear the web could no longer take anymore abuse. After a 5 minute stint at 40 Miles Per Hour (who actually follows the speed limit perfectly) I was stopped by a red light. I glanced over and the web had fallen apart and there was the spider, clinging desperately to the few strands that remained. It was gathering them up, and retreating slowly, too slowly, back towards the mirror. The Light turned green. I was suddenly compelled by forces even I could not control. I could not stay stopped. I had to go. The "order of things" demanded I go. But if I did, and accelerated up to the accepted speed limit, I knew that would be it for the spider that had lived in my cars mirror for the last 2 weeks. After a few seconds of indecision, I started to move. Slowly. No doubt to the absolute consternation of the person behind me. The spider continued its desperate retreat even as I slowly moved foreword, accelerating only enough to make the person behind me wonder if I actually am going or not. Eventually, the spider escaped back into the protection of the mirror and I hit the accelerator and went up to the speed limit. Bending the rules of the road to the breaking point because I had decided some insignificant spider was worth it.
It was then that I wondered that if there was a God, this is what he felt like.
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