My Mortal Enemy

To the scary lemon spider at work:

THIS IS WAR. When you tried to chop my finger off this summer, I took it for an accident. It went almost down to the bone and hurt like hell and bled all over, leaving a lovely scar on the middle finger of my right hand. I mean, all I was trying to do was cut lemons into wedges so the losers at my tables can have lemons with their iced teas. An iced tea. With a wedge of lemon. It is not that hard a concept to grasp, yet it seems to make people inordinately happy. Some of them even request several lemons! So you see, clearly I have been trying to work with you on this lemon cutting thing.

I want you to know I also hold you indirectly responsible for the chunk of scar tissue that NEVER GOES AWAY EVEN THOUGH IT HAPPENED IN LIKE SEPTEMBER, next to the fingernail on the middle finger of my OTHER hand. Because I would never have been using a steak knife to cut those lemons if it weren't for the fact that you terrify me.

Yes, you, lemon spider. You, of the four sharp blades and the sleek guillotine-esque lines. You, who sit creepily watching me from your perch on the cutting board next to the Coke dispenser. You are a machine of death, lemon spider, but I thought we had learned to keep a wary distance from each other... until today.

I don't know how you do it. How is it you manage to come up with so many different ways of injuring me? You are, after all, just a metal guillotine for lemons. But today I was wedging lemons, and when I slammed the blade down, you managed to somehow catch my hand between the edges of your heavy metal clamp. "Holy fucking SHIT!" I yelled, grabbing my hand. But there was no blood this time. There is, however, a massive bright red blood blister in the middle of a bruise on the palm of my hand. And it really really hurts.

Anyhow, lemon spider, I want you to know that I hereby declare war on you.

You are trying to kill me. But now I'm onto you. So watch out.

Sincerely,

Sarah

Tags: work, lemon spider