Sometimes at night if I walk through a narrow space where there might be a web, I hold my arm up in front of my face because I can't stand the thought of a web hitting my face. Once as a preteen, I was evidently the first person to go down the narrow steps to the basement of our old church one Sunday morning. Needless to say, I'm almost 66 and can still clearly remember the horrible feeling of that web and feeling the spider scuttle across my skin.