I fear no spider

I was hanging out with this guy I liked, some time ago.
We were in that "getting to know each other" phase, during which I was trying to figure out how to be myself but also be "cool, cute, funny, and interesting."

I put way too much thought into most situations, including the following.
We were putting on our shoes in the hallway and getting ready to leave when he suddenly put his hand on my arm and said, "Hold on. Don't turn around."
Here is the list of things I thought could possibly be behind me: ghost, burglar/murderer, his parents.
"What? What is it??"
"There's a big spider to the left of you."
... Oh.

Spiders don't freak me out.
If one were to jump out at me, I would be a bit surprised, but then I would:
1) calmly walk over to the nearest box of kleenex/stack of papers; 2) pick up enough to serve as a barrier and increase the surface area of contact; 3) smash and smush; 4) throw away the tissue+spider guts; 5) go on with the day.
However, in the millisecond that I had to respond, I questioned whether I should act differently.
The fact that he stopped me indicated that he expected me to be afraid of spiders.

So I played along.
"Oh! Omahgad... get rid of it..."
I wonder how convincing my delivery was.
(I won't be doing this again. I am now mature -- or dgaf -- enough to not care about what someone may think of my ruthless arachnicide.)

My roommate has been dependent on my killer instincts since we first lived together freshman year.
I can recall one evening in our small dorm room, when I had to use a combination of Febreze and a roll of toilet paper to battle a particularly large spider that had found its way into a corner near her bed. I recently decided, however, that she needs to develop her own spider-killing skills if she is to live on her own next year. (And frankly, I am just tired of frequently being woken up at 11pm to kill spiders that are 1/1000th her size.)

When she again barged into my room today declaring that a spider was preventing her from sleeping in her room, I refused to move. After a 15-minute exchange of pleas/threats and terse no's, I offered her a bargain.
"Send me a text as written proof that I will never have to kill another spider for you again, and I will go take care of it."

She was reluctant at first, but she was also desperate.

How I feel about my successful negotiation: Yonce-rrific.