As we return to my 27 Netflix worthy travel experiences I want to share of my showering with a bird eater in Thailand.
After seeing a scorpion, centipede, 2 huge Tokays and an array of large moths and other critters inside the house sit spot in Chiang Mai, Thailand I thought I had seen it all.
“Ha!” Says the Universe.
Farang gonna see more creepy crawlies. Or more fascinating creatures, in my eyes. Because I actually dig this shit. I love seeing these rare, compelling, gorgeous and yes, sometimes dangerous critters during my world travels.
Makes me feel alive.
Seriously….how lame would my posts be if I’d be pissing in my Blogging From Paradise pantaloons over some weak-ass 3 inch long cockroach running through the property?
I eat cockroaches for breakfast. No not literally. But metaphor-wise, yeah, I am so over these guys that I picked one up with my hands and tossed that sucker out of the house in Chiang Mai a while back.
Anyway…..on to the hairy bird eater in the bathroom.
I flipped on the light. Looked near the floor. That’s funny; I’m pretty sure I remembered to clear the drain of my farang fur.
I am mammalian. Take whatever you want from that.
The alleged fur-ball struck me as weird. Because it had 8 legs. Large fangs. And on further inspection, more eyes on it than any Donald Trump presser.
Being as swift as a snail after smoking 46 joints, I came to the conclusion: I am looking at a tarantula. And because I found my farang fanny in Thailand at the time, I surmised it was a Thai tarantula. Told ya I was smart.
I figured full grown because it was darn big. But when I sent word and photos to the homeowner she noted how it was definitely a bird eating spider. Just a juvenile. Great.
Here’s the deal: I didn’t let the homeowner know for a number of days after the initial sighting because I felt the lil’ guy was harmless. Meaning I had been showering in the bathroom for nearly a week, with said bird eating, Thai tarantula literally sitting not 3 inches from my feet, carefully nestling itself on a little stand to avoid being super soaked by the shower stream.
Either he was a perv or waiting for prey.
The routine: I walk into the shower at roughly 6:15 PM complaining how “Hot as balls it was today” – temperatures reached 104 degrees Fahrenheit on some of these days in Chiang Mai – then proceeded to say “Hi” to the tarantula who either appeared to wave back with 1 hairy leg, or perhaps he was telling me to “Please leave, and good day, sir!”
I would spend 1-2 minutes in the shower – conserving water, if Alexis is reading – all while the spider sat there, easily within striking distance, patiently birding (see what I did?) his time.
Oh yeah….when I did notify the homeowner of the not too terrifying tarantula she alerted me to the fact that it was a highly aggressive, quite nasty, not to be messed with Thai bird eating tarantula.
Turns out I wasn’t the Tarantula Whisperer. I just hadn’t pissed him off enough to warrant the real bird eating deal to come out and show his true tarantula colors.
Don’t worry….I will soon, in this story.
I showered way more cautiously going forward. Meaning I walked slowly into the bathroom to avoid slipping. That is a joke.
Meaning I tip toed through the Thai black tarantula tulips as if walking on eggshells, not wanting to disturb our little friend who could and would tag me, without hesitation, if agitated by this big Biddulph Ape (he senses I am simian, more than anything) when said ape plods into the bathroom.
All went without issue until 2 days before we flew back to the States….
Kelli left a small (big really, but she is reading too) ball of laundry on the kitchen sink.
I reached out to grab it for washing until I saw old Terrance the Thai Bird Eating Tarantula sitting in the middle of the mound.
I pulled back like I’d nearly touched the nuclear football.
Something life-affirming happened; the tarantula moved. More than a microscopic shimmy….he actually moved. First time I’d seen it. I deemed it life affirming for being one part scary, one part fascinating.
Kelli would not leave her dress behind because no way it fits the spider, and besides, the dress didn’t have 8 holes for the tarantula’s legs, so I grab a broom and head toward the bathroom.
I turn the broom around, using the handle to oh so delicately prod Terrance from the dress (lady boy?) to climb the sink, or wall, or wherever.
He didn’t like my prodding much.
A split second later he sprints up the broom handle, rearing up to show off his impressive fangs in offensive, “Go ahead, make my arachnid day!” type fashion.
I instantly shake him off the broom handle. He lands in the sink. He cannot get out. I will not have a bird eater’s death on my hands. So I fish the guy out (it could have been Tamara, or, sorry for to the binary crowd for whom it’d could been Neutral) and he lands on the sink counter, calmly holding his ground in the corner.
I grab the dress and swiftly exit the bathroom, shutting the door to avoid any future bird eating entanglements around the home.