Tales of Spider’s antics were legendary throughout the tall, noisy workshops where I was inducted into my first trade.
As a young apprentice I was certainly not naive to the tendency for older tradesmen to exaggerate, nonetheless, all of us hung on the words of any narrator relating any anecdote revolving around Spider. The work often involved field trips and overnight stays in country locations, and it normally took Spider about 5 minutes at the local pub to locate and thoroughly work the talent. Somehow, women sensed something about him - and were drawn to him… inevitably ending up in his bed. What was most unnerving though for the older, married tradesmen with slightly tired looking wives, was Spider’s quality control. He’d pull… every time… but he’d pull the sweetest, hottest, sexiest women in the district. They weren’t always unattached either, and on several occasions hasty early morning departures had to be made to avoid often large, often violent husbands or boyfriends.
But it wasn’t enough for Spider to have legions of pouting, panting fans dreaming of the day he’d blow back into their two pub dusty country town and bang them silly once again. Back in the city he usually had half a dozen women in tow, that he’d call on in turn while he was out on jobs. Years later tradesmen would relate the numerous times they’s spent sitting in the van outside some suburban flat for half an hour, twiddling their thumbs, while Spider attended to the needs of one of his harem. Some of them would wave from the front door as he left, others, if there was an ounce of salt in rumours concerning Spider’s sexual prowess, just lay in bed with a dreamy look of deep satisfaction. Still further myths were flung about - that he was a millionaire playboy, that he had his own plane and had learnt to fly it, that he was hung like a horse… and so on. They made Spider larger than life
I really didn’t believe half of it, but in spite of that, I really couldn’t wait to make his acquaintance- to see if I could detect anything from this man after meeting him. I didn’t have to wait long, as a meeting was arranged out in the wine country where he lived to talk about the job. I drove up after work one evening, and rapped on the door of the reasonably new flat. A short moment later, a tall blonde with piercing green eyes wearing mini skirt and crop top answered the door. “Hi” she said and smiled, “Geeb… right?”. I nodded and tried my best not to accidentally look down her top, or at her tiny waist, or her small, curved, perfect bottom for too long. She led me through to the lounge, and as we came in from behind I noticed a guy with sandy coloured permed hair, and the start of a small bald patch, sitting with his back to us watching the TV. A moment later he stood up and turned around, extending his left hand to shake my right… and I noticed his right arm was in plaster. He was also wearing a neck brace, but he managed to fashion his wired up jaw into painful looking, but welcoming smile. He was my height, but skinny and sinewy, some might even say weedy, but friendly and cheerful to talk to despite his sorry state. “My god”, I mused, “is this really Spider?”
We sat down and talked, and he told me all about the accident, and how despite being left handed, was unable to do any of the heavier work. His neck ruled out benchwork too, and there was only so much his junior trade assistant could do. I said I was definitely up for it, so he asked me how much they were paying me, and of course I lied, and then said “can you start on Monday ?”. I agreed, and with another awkward handshake, the deal was done. What “the deal” actually involved was unclear beyond two week’s work, but I had the luxury of still living at home with my folks and could afford a certain amount of devil may care. As it was, I hoped to get into uni the following year and was really biding my time. Had I not go the job with Spider, I had a half baked plan to drive up to the Gold Coast, or Newcastle, and get a job as a bicycle postie. All up, I wasn’t too worried about the next 12 months.
I went into my current job the next morning and told them to shove it, and that they’d all be on the streets in 3 months the way things were going ( they were ), and fronted up to the new job the following Monday. I tried to settle in as much as I could, but with Spider dashing into town several times a day it was tough running the shop on my own. The work wasn’t overly hard, but there were times when things went very quiet and I was left trying to find busy work. Toward the end of the week I was feeling a little more relaxed, and getting to know Spider a little better. On the Thursday he talked about getting my pay details all sorted out. He said the lady who does the pays would come in on Friday and give me a cash advance for the week, and sort out the other details.
The Friday was fairly quiet, and I remember standing in the workshop and watching a Ford Falcon pull up. Expecting it was a customer who’d pulled off the main highway, I dusted myself off and wiped my hands, ready to serve them. As the door opened, a little boy and a slightly older little girl got out, and ran toward the workshop, but as they stamped in through the large sliding doors, the stopped abruptly and stared at me. A moment later a woman pushed the driver’s side door shut, and marched across the gravel toward me. She was carrying a couple of folders and some other papers, and I assumed she was the lady to take care of the pays. It was a sunny day and she wore large sunglasses, but as she strolled into the workshop she took them off. She walked straight up to me, and it suddenly struck me why she had looked familiar. She looked up as she walked past me and toward the office, stopping for a moment and greeting me. “Hello Geeb”, she said cheerily, in a plummy, British accent I hadn’t heard in over a year. “How are you?” .
Lynette wore that same barely perceptible smirk she did that night I bumped into her at the club, leaving me with no doubt she’d remembered my embarrassing foot in mouth incident. My mind was now going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what exactly was going on here. “Are they back together?”, “Does she know he’s shagging a 23 y.o. cheerleader?”, “Are they his kids?”, “My god… do his kids know he’s shagging a 23 y.o. cheerleader?”… all these questions swirled around in my mind, leaving me paralyzed and incapable of stringing together a sentence. Within a week I would know the answer to all except the first question was true.
I didn’t see much of Spider in the first month, he had regular doctor’s appointments, and business in town he had to attend to. Lyn popped in from time to time, occasionally bringing me a treat from the bakery and sitting down to share a cup of coffee and a short chat. I learned that she was a very smart woman, with her hands still firmly on the controls of the business… despite being officially divorced from Spider for some five years. The business name still remained the same, an amalgamation of her and Spider’s first names, and they seemed to have settled into a very civil, yet entirely separate partnership.
In the new year Spider became more and more able, and began to take on a bit more of the work. Up until that time, he’d always seemed like some shadowy figure, sort of appearing only to disappear a short time later. This meant he was around a lot more of the time, and I got to talk to him a bit more. It was during this time that I noticed the visits.
Over the summer we got a fair amount of passing trade, and I’d often get interrupted from one job to attend to other customers. This meant I had to keep one eye out for people who’d turned up and wandered into the office while I had been otherwise occupied. Increasingly though, I noticed a certain clientele. They were invariably female, typically between 20 and 25 years of age, extremely attractive, and always looking for Spider. They never seemed to want any work done, and when Spider was in the office, they just seemed to all lounge around drinking coffee or Coke and talking. It wasn’t unusual for there to be two or three at a time, and I assumed most of them knew each other. Somedays I would see half a dozen different girls come in looking for him - some looking noticeably disappointed to find he wasn’t there. Some even got anxious, and would interrogate me. “Well you must know when he’s coming back?”, they’d plead, “just tell him Michelle was here, ok?”.
This went on day in, day out - but also during this time I got to know Spider’s girlfriend, Kellie. She’d just appeared on a TV commercial for the local Beer, sharing a stage with 11 other cheerleaders, and an infamous gravel voiced rock singer. She was much closer in age to me than Spider, and at times I felt she enjoyed talking about stuff outside of Spider’s world. Sometimes Spider would shoot off into town for half an hour, and Kellie would stay back at the office. We’d often sit down and have a laugh and a chat, and she’d tell me all about the “much less exciting than you’d think” life of a top local model. Despite her appearances, Kellie was actually fairly conservative and to my surprise, a little shy. I just assumed girls that looked like that never had any doubts at all - but as I came to know her better she opened up and told me about some of them. I also got to see her on days when she wasn’t her best, when she had a zit, or her hair was a bit wrong, or she wasn’t dressed up - but I really liked the fact she’d drop her guard from time to time. These days when I come across girls who do the sort of work she did, my thoughts flash back to her - and how she subtlety altered my perception of them. More of them than I ever expected are just like she was - fun, down to earth, and smart. Some are even closet dags.
I often wondered how much Kellie knew about Spider. After watching him for six months, I had no doubt at all monogamy wasn’t part of his vocabulary. Most guys would have looked at the dress up Barbie Doll Kellie appeared to be and wondered what more a guy could want - but clearly she wasn’t enough for Spider. I think deep down girls that fall for guys like Spider know that… but they fall anyway. In the midst of all this though, I still could not see what it was about this weedy, thinning haired, thirty eight year old Casanova that drew women to him. In due course found out the private plane existed, and a fair portion of the money existed… but there was something else.
Spider had something that throughout the ages men have studied, that countless products have promised to bestow, that movies are mad of. It’s a seemingly indescribable combination of self confidence, charm, charisma, and sex appeal… and you either have it or you don’t. I could have pointed Spider out to any girl from across the other side of a smokey bar, and she would have been singularly unimpressed - but somehow that would change within minutes of her making his acquaintance. This was the essence of Spider - that once they got within a certain distance of him, women seemed inexorably pulled into his orbit like a comet around the sun.
I only worked for Spider for just over a year, and in that time never learnt his secret - and never got close enough to ask. I was glad that the two weeks work stretched to 14 months, and fondly remember that summer when it seemed like I was a stage hand on a movie set, inundated with well dressed, beautiful women with no interest in anyone but the director. I wonder where they all are now, and how many are married men who live in Spider’s shadow.
From time to time I also wonder about Spider, and what he looks like now, and most importantly, if he still has “it”. I’ve since heard tales of others like him - but never met one. Throughout history, in all cultures,there have no doubt been endless instances of people like him, and not only men, but women also.
At some time in our lives, we have all aspired to this mystical power. Every man has dreamt of being like Spider, of even living just one day of his life.
Then, and only then, may we know if it’s all as it seems…
Tags: general by admin
2 Comments »
