Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
The other day I took the Number 86 tram into the city as my usual train had been cancelled.
For those who remember TSSH, the 86 tram was a source of considerable hilarity, mainly for it being freak city central with a wide and varied collection of junkies, speed freaks, chromers, nutters, hippies and associated dick-biscuits all crammed into one small, trundling space.
However I was confident that I should be safe enough at the start of peak hour until I looked down and observed a quite large spider crawling up my overcoat*.
Being calm in a crisis, I took the sensible precaution of shouting “yerrrrrrrrgh” and leaping about in a manor vaguely similar to a Morris dancer on crack; in the process knocking the spider into a handbag of young woman who turned out to have a pathological fear of spiders.
This in turn led to a cluster of passengers standing in the isle speaking at some volume, which in turn led to the driver stopping the tram and inquiring what the hell was happening back there.
“It’s a spider” we all screamed.
“It’s just a huntsman,” said some hippie – fresh from voting Green at the election.
I was going to suggest he could cram the spider up his environmentally friendly clacker when a less-environmentally friendly type resolved the situation by squishing said spider.
I think killing a spider is supposed to bring bad luck, but I didn’t kill it so I should be safe.
*It was crawling over your Julia badge, Squib, which I thought was just rude.