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                        THE WORLD'S FASTEST SPIDER

                                     Copyright, 1991. Andrew Varga

            It was a crisp Autumn morning as I slowly backed out
        of the driveway on my way to work.  Having spent the night
        under our only tree, a gargantuan maple, my car was
        heavily laden with multicolored red, yellow, and orange
        leaves.

            I hadn't gone very far when I thought I noticed
        something move in a strange way toward me across the car's
        hood.  Not until it had surmounted my windshield did I see
        that it was a big, ugly, black spider, hairy legs and all.

            I hate spiders, and right then and there I decided I
        didn't need a traveling companion that had eight hairy
        legs.  The spider had to go.

            In an effort to persuade it to leave, I pushed the
        wiper button.  "Dope-dope dope-dope" they went, but that
        fat black creature hung on tenaciously.

             "Well, if I can't shove it off," I said to myself,
        "I'll wash it off."  And I pushed another button.

            The heavy spray of washer solution momentarily blurred
        the entire windshield.  Some rude driver blasted his horn
        as we passed.  I'd have reported him for disturbing the
        peace except that I couldn't see well enough to recognize
        the vehicle.

            As my windshield cleared, I gaped in disbelief.  The
        spider was riding behind my wiper like a water skier
        behind a boat!

            I quickly swerved to the left and then to the right.

            I swear, that big ugly sucker looked as though it was
        enjoying the ride!

            "Its either him or me," I muttered and I pushed down
        hard on the accelerator.  When I hit sixty, the wind blew
        two of its legs out from under it.  At seventy, two more
        went.  By the time I was doing eighty-five, the spider was
        hanging on by only one leg.

            "Just a little more and you're history!"  I shouted
        triumphantly.

            It was exactly then that I heard the siren.  That old
        spider sat right there on my wiper and leered at me as I
        waited at the side of the road for the policeman to walk
        up to the car.

            "Do you know how fast you were going?" he asked me as
        he began writing out the ticket.

            "No sir, I don't," I guiltily replied.

            "Why were you speeding?"

            I looked straight ahead, my mind racing for a
        plausible answer.  I figured he wouldn't believe the real
        reason, and a ticket is preferable to a breathalyzer test
        any time.

            I gasped in amazement.  The spider -my evidence- was
        gone!

            "Sir, are you all right?" the policeman asked.

            "Ugh, yes, yes, I'm fine.  I don't know, officer. I'm
        usually a very careful driver."

            He handed me the ticket.  "You can either pay this at
        the courthouse or you can send a check to the Department
        of Motor Vehicles at the state capital.  From now on slow
        down and drive carefully."

            I sat waiting as he returned to his car, feeling
        foolish and muttering under my breath, "As soon as he
        leaves, I'm getting the tire iron from the trunk."

            A genuine smile bloomed across my face as I watched
        the policeman turn off the flashers and slowly pull out
        around me.

            It's a good thing he didn't look at me as he passed,
        I was laughing hysterically.

            I almost waved, at my hairy nemesis, perched there on
        top of his hat.