When I stepped into the shower, I didn’t see the spider. Once the water was running, I looked down and there it was at my feet, floating near the drain.

They don’t struggle when they’re fully soaked. Instead, they ball up and wait for the tide to take them to a surface they can latch on to.

There will be no escape for this spider, however, because I won’t let it happen. This spider is in my shower, and that kind of disrespect demands an execution.

There are plenty of spider sanctuaries — the utility room, the garage, the shed, the attic — where I’ll look the other way. I don’t enjoy killing them, and would rather not, so I let them be when they know their place.

Although spiders are creepy, they have some positive attributes. Most notably, they eat a lot of insects. It’s probably not intelligent for me to kill something that’s doing so much killing on my behalf.

It is also important to recognize that, from an engineering standpoint, spiders are amazing creatures. Their sticky silk webs are a wonder of nature.

So I would rather live in harmony with the spiders. When they get near my food, naked body or underwear drawers, however, it’s just not acceptable.

Of course, spiders don’t know the difference between safe zones and kill zones. Killing them won’t teach them. Nothing will teach them.

There will always be spiders in places I don’t want them. I can’t control that. But I can keep this particular spider from ever entering my shower again.

I don’t need to kill this spider immediately, though. I just started my shower, and the spider isn’t going anywhere.

All I need to do is keep an eye on it. I can’t let it get to the edge of the water and scamper up the side of the tub, where it might sneak under the curtain and escape.

If the shower were functioning perfectly, the water would carry the spider down the drain. Unfortunately, the tub-filling faucet isn’t completely plugged off, so the water it’s releasing is just enough to counter the shower flow and hold the spider in place.

Letting the spider slide down the drain is preferable to smooshing it. Letting it drown is more an act of indifference than straight-up malice.

If possible, I’d like to kill the spider without touching it, so that makes the drain scenario all the more attractive.

I try slapping the edge of the water with my foot, kicking up a wave in an attempt to push the spider toward the drain. No luck.

There is time to consider non-lethal options, but deep down I know I have to kill the spider. I can’t take it outside and set it free; it already knows the way in.

After thinking about it for several minutes, though, my mind slowly wanders and soon I’ve forgotten all about the spider. I’m finished showering and have other things to do.

I turn off the water, step out to the bathmat and begin drying off. But then I remember the spider. Did it go down the drain when I turned off the water?

No, that was wishful thinking. I have to grab a tissue, wipe up the spider and squeeze the life out of it with my fingertips if it’s not already dead.

As I lean in for the kill, I get a better look at my nemesis. It’s not a spider at all. It’s a piece of lint from the black socks I was wearing before I stepped into the shower.

So now I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to take it outside and set it free.