Wilford Warfstache (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cottoncandypink) wrote2018-03-28 11:14 am
cottoncandypink) wrote2018-03-28 11:14 am
With good care, females can live to about fifty
Apparently, Wilford had to buy a spider. That was a new one, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Luckily, he even knew exactly where he could find one.
Living in LS suited him perfectly, as it happened. Back east, when someone recognised you running your errands in an old pair of basketball shorts and dark sunglasses, the whole damn neighbourhood acted like you thought you were either some sort of hotshot who felt the need to go out in disguise, or seemed to think you were severely underpaid. In LS, a complete lack of fashion sense rendered you almost totally invisible. Unless you were an A-lister. Then leaving the house with anything less than perfect hair and a fully-tailored wardrobe called into question everything about your lifestyle.
Wilford was not an A-lister, and he never wanted to be. He liked being able to walk into a pet shop in the middle of the afternoon and not turn a single head. He hooked his sunglasses into the front of his t-shirt and walked past the dog aisle to the back, where they kept all the creepy crawlers hidden from people who just wanted to pick up food for Fluffy. There was an entire wall of fish along the back, with a large artificial pond in front of the display, full of fancy plants. Further back, nestled in the corner, were the toads and snakes and lizards. Wilford stopped for a moment to look at a big, black scorpion hiding under a piece of wood, and wondered why anyone would ever want something like that in their house.
While he frowned at the overgrown bug, a peppy young man with purple eyebrows and a terrible blond dye job up top walked over.
“Can I help you find anything?” he asked.
Wilford gave the scorpion one last sneer before turning to face the lad. Wilford couldn’t tell if the kid thought he was fooling anybody with that dye job, or if it was coming into style to be so deliberately bad.
“I’m looking for a spider for a kid,” he said.
Jake — according to his name tag — nodded. “Okay. How old’s the kid?”
Wilford rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t keep track. Six or seven?” he guessed.
“Has he had a spider before?” Jake asked.
“No, this is her first one, I think.”
Jake gave a quick, apologetic cringe. “She. Sorry. But yeah, we’ve got a few that should work just fine. Come with me.”
Wilford followed him to the next aisle to look at more bugs. Big hairy bugs, with big teeth and big eyes watching them from their dark hiding places.
“For a first spider for someone that young, I’d suggest a Yellow Northern,” he said, stopping in front of a long, divided tank. Inside the several little caves scattered throughout the enclosure were little yellow, glowing eight-eyed faces watching everything. “They’re not burrowers, so there’s not a lot of drama over wondering if it got out, and they’re nice and bright so you can see them even when they’re in their hides.”
“Are those things glowing?” Wilford asked.
“Yep,” Jake said. “It’s a natural bioluminescence. They come from Northern Europe, where there’s no sun for half the year. They glow to attract prey. It also makes them real easy to keep track of when the kid accidentally loses it.”
It was a good selling point. Wilford nodded, considering it as an option.
“How big’s it get?” he asked.
“Males, about the size of your fist. Females can get two or three times that size. I usually suggest a female though, because males only live a couple of years. With good care, females can live to about fifty.”
With anyone else, Wilford would have worried about getting shot over giving someone else’s kid a giant spider with a human-sized lifespan. Guppy, he expected to just stutter at him and call him a few names.
He spent almost two hours being shown around various other tanks, being told various requirements for food, housing, care. But he kept going back to that glowing spider. Jake seemed to think it was a good starter for a kid, and it definitely would stand out if it escaped and decided to hide in the closet or under the sofa. He decided that was the right one. Jake wrote out a reserve slip and stuck it to the front of the tank while they moved onto the business of how to house the creepy thing. There was a second half of this deal to consider, which Wilford intended to make good on. And he knew just the underhanded way to go about it. Jake walked him through tanks, equipment, decorations, plants, and about a dozen types of dirt. Wilford took notes on all of it on his phone, and did his own quick research on some of the things that were brought up. In the end, Wilford took all of it. The enormous tank, the live plants, the fancy dirt. Even a plastic jar full of gross little pill-bug-looking-things that apparently weren’t meant to be food for the spider, but housekeeping. It was a lot of money to be spending, but it would probably be worth it in the end, he thought. It was buying a ticket to a new experience, which alone was probably worth more than what he was actually spending.
Jake even helped him take everything out to his car. Wilford was surprised it all fit.
Living in LS suited him perfectly, as it happened. Back east, when someone recognised you running your errands in an old pair of basketball shorts and dark sunglasses, the whole damn neighbourhood acted like you thought you were either some sort of hotshot who felt the need to go out in disguise, or seemed to think you were severely underpaid. In LS, a complete lack of fashion sense rendered you almost totally invisible. Unless you were an A-lister. Then leaving the house with anything less than perfect hair and a fully-tailored wardrobe called into question everything about your lifestyle.
Wilford was not an A-lister, and he never wanted to be. He liked being able to walk into a pet shop in the middle of the afternoon and not turn a single head. He hooked his sunglasses into the front of his t-shirt and walked past the dog aisle to the back, where they kept all the creepy crawlers hidden from people who just wanted to pick up food for Fluffy. There was an entire wall of fish along the back, with a large artificial pond in front of the display, full of fancy plants. Further back, nestled in the corner, were the toads and snakes and lizards. Wilford stopped for a moment to look at a big, black scorpion hiding under a piece of wood, and wondered why anyone would ever want something like that in their house.
While he frowned at the overgrown bug, a peppy young man with purple eyebrows and a terrible blond dye job up top walked over.
“Can I help you find anything?” he asked.
Wilford gave the scorpion one last sneer before turning to face the lad. Wilford couldn’t tell if the kid thought he was fooling anybody with that dye job, or if it was coming into style to be so deliberately bad.
“I’m looking for a spider for a kid,” he said.
Jake — according to his name tag — nodded. “Okay. How old’s the kid?”
Wilford rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t keep track. Six or seven?” he guessed.
“Has he had a spider before?” Jake asked.
“No, this is her first one, I think.”
Jake gave a quick, apologetic cringe. “She. Sorry. But yeah, we’ve got a few that should work just fine. Come with me.”
Wilford followed him to the next aisle to look at more bugs. Big hairy bugs, with big teeth and big eyes watching them from their dark hiding places.
“For a first spider for someone that young, I’d suggest a Yellow Northern,” he said, stopping in front of a long, divided tank. Inside the several little caves scattered throughout the enclosure were little yellow, glowing eight-eyed faces watching everything. “They’re not burrowers, so there’s not a lot of drama over wondering if it got out, and they’re nice and bright so you can see them even when they’re in their hides.”
“Are those things glowing?” Wilford asked.
“Yep,” Jake said. “It’s a natural bioluminescence. They come from Northern Europe, where there’s no sun for half the year. They glow to attract prey. It also makes them real easy to keep track of when the kid accidentally loses it.”
It was a good selling point. Wilford nodded, considering it as an option.
“How big’s it get?” he asked.
“Males, about the size of your fist. Females can get two or three times that size. I usually suggest a female though, because males only live a couple of years. With good care, females can live to about fifty.”
With anyone else, Wilford would have worried about getting shot over giving someone else’s kid a giant spider with a human-sized lifespan. Guppy, he expected to just stutter at him and call him a few names.
He spent almost two hours being shown around various other tanks, being told various requirements for food, housing, care. But he kept going back to that glowing spider. Jake seemed to think it was a good starter for a kid, and it definitely would stand out if it escaped and decided to hide in the closet or under the sofa. He decided that was the right one. Jake wrote out a reserve slip and stuck it to the front of the tank while they moved onto the business of how to house the creepy thing. There was a second half of this deal to consider, which Wilford intended to make good on. And he knew just the underhanded way to go about it. Jake walked him through tanks, equipment, decorations, plants, and about a dozen types of dirt. Wilford took notes on all of it on his phone, and did his own quick research on some of the things that were brought up. In the end, Wilford took all of it. The enormous tank, the live plants, the fancy dirt. Even a plastic jar full of gross little pill-bug-looking-things that apparently weren’t meant to be food for the spider, but housekeeping. It was a lot of money to be spending, but it would probably be worth it in the end, he thought. It was buying a ticket to a new experience, which alone was probably worth more than what he was actually spending.
Jake even helped him take everything out to his car. Wilford was surprised it all fit.