I was at work the other day (the IU Bookstore) and the phone rang. I answered it. The voice on the other end was that of a very lovely sounding women calling out of concern for her son's upcoming Freshman year. Now concerned parents are the second most frequent thing that we handle at the bookstore (behind books of course) and I've dealt with just about every possible question they can come up with. Or at least I thought I had. The lady was asking about getting her son's books for the upcoming school year and she peppered me with the usual questions about ordering, renting and used versus new when the conversation took an interesting turn.
"Now what are e-books?" she asked.
"Well, e-books are electronic books that you download to a program on the... (there's a long explanation and I'm just going to assume that you know.)
We then go into a short conversation about how to buy e-books and other fun facts, which leads to her question de résistance,
"How many e-books do you have?"
"A number of our titles offer e-books, I'd say around half of them."
"But how many do you have in stock for (some class I don't remember)? I just want to make sure you don't run out before I can come pick it up."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a stupid question. Now, in the spirit of fairness, here is something stupid I did this week.
I came home from work earlier this week (I can't remember which day, I'm pretty sure it's due to PTSD) and went straight to the bathroom (don't get ahead of me). I looked in the mirror and noticed a fairly large piece of lint stuck to my collar and went to brush it off. For reasons that will soon become clear, it didn't come off. I tried again. Still there. I went to brush it off a third time and realized why I couldn't get it to come off my shirt. Every time I went to brush it off, it moved away from my hand. Not immediately recognizing what was going on (I KNOW) I leaned into the mirror to get a closer look. That's when I realized that my piece of lint had eight legs (I KNOW!). Now, I grew up with a book called Scary Stories to Tell In the Dark, which had no less than 5 stories about spiders doing hideous things to people, mainly by laying eggs in their skin. So, obviously, I remained calm and did what needed to be done. Feel free to use this handy list as a guide anytime you find a random spider in your clothing.
1. I screamed like a girl.
Not in the sense that girls scream a lot or are easily scared (they totally are), but rather in the sense that I screamed at a pitch heretofore never achieved by the vocal chords of a male. This was a slutty-blond-girl-just-before-Jason-kills-her scream.
2. I immediately took all of my clothes off
I striped down quicker than a virgin on prom night. I tried to go all Hulk Hogan on my shirt, but apparently, even with my super adrenaline, I just don't have the 24-inch pythons to pull that off.
(Side Note: If you ever think you may have disrobe quickly, do not, I repeat do not wear a belt. In fact, just don't wear one, you never know when you'll need to disrobe quickly.)
3. I inspected my entire body for spider bites or hidden egg sacks.
Yea, we're not going to go into a lot of detail on this one.
4. I ran from the bathroom to my bedroom
Luckily, my roommate missed this entire incident but I was sure that she would show up just as I left the bathroom and I was NOT putting those clothes back on.
5. I went back after about two hours and got my clothes.
I tried waiting him out but spiders are awfully crafty. But I shook the hell out of those clothes before they ever came near my room.
So there you go, a handy guide, just in case you ever find a spider in your clothing. I'm just lucky I wasn't in a Target.
