When my friend moved into an apartment by the 7-11 between Fremont and Wallingford, he inherited a spider problem. He kept a can of Raid next to him on the couch in case, which was where he fell asleep watching TV most nights.

One night he work up and felt a fresh web connecting his face–half of his cheek and chin–to a guitar and table lamp. He jumped up, reached for the Raid and started spraying the web, still connected to the lamp and guitar. And there under spray, fifty tiny spiders hatched and started heading for the floor in droplets.

What a way to come into the world, light and water poking all of your eyes out, that close to shag carpet and wall cracks and crumbs.