Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

When I told him I wouldn’t be on the contributors’ page in this issue, he asked if the magazine
could print the address of his website on the photos. Andy said it wouldn’t be possible, so Paul
called and asked that I work the web address into the story itself. He doesn’t understand the
difference between an article and an advertisement, so I had a hard time explaining the difficulty. I
settled, finally, on an analogy. “It’s like with the Dr. Povlitch story,” I said. “Wouldn’t it have been
distracting to say, ‘After the accident, my mother took me to see Dr. Povlitch (see
www.drpovlitch.com or www.braceyourself.com), who began proceedings for a root canal’?”
Paul was silent.
“Doesn’t that sound wrong?” I asked.
“No.”
After we spoke, Dad called me. “Hey,” he said, “why won’t you put Paul’s web address in your
story?” By nightfall I was public enemy number one, the mean guy, the fusspot refusing to do his
brother this one little favor.
July 8, 2002
La Bagotière
Hugh and Leslie left early this morning for Paris. I was supposed to go with them but decided at
the last minute that it’s really not a good time for me. I can’t leave my spiders, for one. On Saturday I
started feeding Clifton, who lives above the kitchen sink. He’s big, the size of a pearl, and I’m trying
to make him bigger. Yesterday he ate two flies and a moth. The flies took him about three hours each,
and the moth, I have no idea. He was still working on it when I went to bed. This morning it’s hollow,
propped like a scarecrow on the edge of the web. “Good work, Clifton,” I said.
I love the moment when he feels the prey trying to escape. Their wings vibrate the web and he
comes from his little cave to size them up. The other day I threw in a bee. Clifton ran out, saw what
he had, and hightailed it back to the corner as if to say, Goddamn, I can’t eat that. Don’t you know
anything?
With moths and flies it’s a different story. He attacks directly, paralyzing them with a bite to the
back or stomach or forehead. Once they’re unable to move, he drinks them alive, empties them out,
and throws the bodies into the trash. I started feeding Clifton on Saturday and began feeding Coretta
Scott yesterday afternoon. The flies are easy to catch, especially the old, clumsy ones. During the day
they bat against the windows and at night they can be found sleeping on the ceiling. I felt a little guilty
about the moth, but flies, who cares?
July 9, 2002
La Bagotière
All day yesterday Clifton stayed folded in his chamber, suffering, I guessed, from a stomachache.
He’d eaten three things larger than himself and so, figuring he’d had enough for a while, I
concentrated on Coretta Scott and Jerry, a new spider nesting in the window between the stove and
the bathroom. It was a slow day for flies, but I managed to catch three of them. Last night I noticed a