Guys and Dolls...and Spiders

My husband, daughter and I went to see "Guys and Dolls" last week at the John Engeman Theater in Northport. (More on that later.) On the ride home, I glanced over at my husband, who was driving, and an overhead light suddenly illuminated the shadow of an enormous spider crawling across the windshield. On the inside. Nobody except me saw this. I knew it was important to keep my cool and not alarm my husband.

We were on the Northern State Parkway, still a good half hour from home, and the road was curvy and not very well illuminated, save for the spider. So, I calmly said, "Don't panic but there's a spider on the windshield." Both of them let out bloodcurdling screams. "Where?" "Oh my god, where is it?" I told them to remain calm. "It's right in front of you toward the top of the glass." My husband then spotted it and yelped. The car swerved and my daughter whimpered. "Kill it!" they both screamed. "Get it!"

I picked up my Playbill from the show and plotted the kill. I had to watch the spider meander over to my side of the windshield, which was unnerving. At last I had a clear shot. "Hi-YA!" I yelled as I swung. Whap, I smashed it once, twice, and down it fell. It was dark and I couldn't see where it landed but I confidently announced, "I OWNED that sucker!" "Are you sure you got him?" my husband asked. "I bet you didn't kill it," my daughter accused. But soon all was calm once again in our car and on we drove.

The Engeman Theater is a beautiful Broadway-caliber theater located on Main Street in Northport. It's a great option if you want to see a show without the hassle of going into the city. Tickets are $60 (or free if your husband's generous best friend happens to be the Director of Sales) and there is free ballet parking (OK, it's valet, but I always say that since Steve Martin performed ballet parking in a tutu on SNL many years ago). There is a live pit orchestra and most of the performers are fresh off Broadway shows. There's not a bad seat in the house. Sitting in our car that night, however, was another story...

As my husband continued to drive, I stared over at him as if he was saying the most scintillating words I had ever heard. In truth, the spider had resurfaced and was now crawling up the driver's window! I kept my eyes riveted on it while my husband obliviously continued talking, obviously enjoying my attention. "Marty?" I said. "Don't flip out but the spider is on the window next to your arm." I'm not sure how to spell what came out of his mouth next, so I'll just go with "$#%(*#@!(@!!!!" In the panic that ensued, the spider fell onto his bare arm and he nearly drove off the road. My daughter assumed a fetal position in the backseat, screaming and crying. I couldn't believe we were about to die because of something half an inch in diameter.

"Open the window!" I ordered. "Let it out!" He rolled the window down and at 70 mph that thing was sucked out instantly to its death. We drove the rest of the way home with the window open just in case. I had my eyes glued to the open window the entire time. My daughter, who is terrified of spiders, snuffled quietly in the backseat. Suddenly every hair on my neck stood up. The spider had crawled back up the track of the window!

Inanely, at that moment I started singing "The Eensy-Weensy Spider" in my head. Terror-stricken, I watched that not-so-eensy-weensy spider make its way up the window and march across the windshield in my direction. I didn't say anything this time, not wanting to incite any further riot in the car. Eventually it was directly in front of me and I was armed and ready. I had had enough. I rolled up my Playbill and, yelling "Die, Motherf***er!" I hit it over and over again. My family couldn't believe it. "Maybe there's TWO spiders!" my husband said. "Oh my god," my daughter wailed.

It went flying down into the vicinity of my feet, and of course I was wearing open-toed sandals. I felt like spiders were crawling over my entire body. I have never wanted to be home more in my life then at that moment. I made my husband promise not to conduct a search for the body when we arrived home, but of course he had to look. We never found the carcass; we assumed it was finally dead but who knows, haha?

The next morning we couldn't find our copy of Newsday. My husband opened his car door and there sat the spider, reading our paper. Of course I'm just kidding, spiders prefer magazines. But it is truly amazing how a little thing with eight legs can terrorize two adults and a teenager. Don't even ask me about the horsefly in the house on Monday...