What it Means to be Human

“You’re not really a human, though,” I informed the giant talking spider, stamping his passport with a [NOPE].

He was not pleased.

“Yeah, but I can talk. And I’m as tall as you.”

I handed him back his passport.

“Yeah, and I really do think that’s great and everything. But you have to be a human to have a passport. You’re a giant talking spider. I don’t even understand how you got that passport in the first place.”

The spider started becoming irate.

“How am I supposed to travel to see my family?” he demanded.

“First of all, I definitely don’t want to know that there’s more of you out there somewhere. But secondly, this is really something that’s beyond me. If you come back tomorrow before 2, you can see my supervisor. They’d be able to help you more than me.”

The spider pointed a leg at my face.

“You know what you are? You’re a bigot.”

I was a little insulted.

“Look, sir, I’m sorry. It’s not like I have anything against spiders. It’s just that it’s highly unusual for giant talking ones to get passports. If I approved you, I’d be jeopardizing not only my job, but probably national security somehow.”

He looked shocked. I think.

“Are you saying spiders are terrorists?” he said loudly, looking around at the others in the office for support. Everyone avoided the gaze of his many eyes.

“Well, you do terrorize people,” Sally from the next lane said to herself.

Thankfully, the spider didn’t hear her.

“No, sir, I’m not saying that. Of course I’m not saying that. I’m saying that our government does have prejudices, and I’m merely looking out for myself. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come back to resolve this.”

The spider took off in a huff.

“Fuckin’ webheads,” muttered Sally.

“Sally, don’t be ignorant.”

To be continued…

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