Advertisement Hey guys, I wanted to share a cool lps experience that I had yesterday. So I go in to the pet store down the street from my house to buy three dozen pinheads for my new Popa spurca and Mesopteryx alata nymphs. Somehow I manage to get sidetracked by the owner who wants to ask about the white spots of hair I have. Most people assume I dye it, but it's actually a pigment deficiency in the skin that causes the hair in the affected area to grow out white. I have yet to think of some crazy story about how I got it (maybe I was struck by lightning?), so I usually just explain it to everyone in the former (boring) way. We have a short discussion, and at one point, one of the supervisors comes over and joins in. The owner runs out to help a customer carry stuff to his car, and I get on the topic of tarantulas with the supersvisor lady. I ask what they have in stock and she takes me over to the spider display to show me. One B. smithi, an A. chalcodes, a P. murinus sling, three G. pulchripes slings, and two H. lividum juvies. I start discussing the different spiders and I make some suggestions about which ones they should start bringing in that would likely sell well. About five or ten minutes in, she mentions a B. vagans that was just returned to them because it was in very poor health. I ask about it and she explains that they sold it to a kid a few months ago (when it was in much better condition). She had tried to talk the kid out of buying it because she could tell he wouldn't care for it properly, but he bought it anyway. The kid later returned it, and she suspected poor husbandry was the cause of its deteriorating health. It didn't want food, it was missing two legs from a bad molt, ect. ect. She tells me she just wants someone to take it to restore it to good health. I'm thinking, cool no problem, free spider. I ask her to bring it out. She does, and lo and behold boxing gloves and hooks. I tell her it's a mature male and am given a blank stare. I explain the plight of the mature male spider and how I'm sorry but there's nothing that I can do; but hey, at least it's not all the kids fault. I have gained credibility at this point. We continue talking and soon I find myself on the dangerous ground of suggesting improvements on the keeping conditions of their spiders. Having been in their store on multiple occasions to buy crickets, I have noticed their spiders and the errors they made in their husbandry. I think hey what the hell I've been good being the know-it-all guy this far, full steam ahead. I begin with the H. lividum who are on about 1/2-1" of coco fiber huddled in the corners of their enclosures. I explain that they're obligate burrowers and tell her to add anough substrate for them to burrow. Sure, they will likely not be visible for customers, but it'll be a happier, healthier spider when they're bought. I'm sort of thinking maybe that's a good thing. People who know what they are and what they're capable of will buy it, rather than a ten year old who sees a blue spider and says hey dad I want that! Maybe just throw a picture of one on the side of the enclosure if it's a big deal. I follow up with a brief explanation of their other enclosure conditions since they're a Haplopelma species. I then advise the switching of the wood chips in the B. smithi and A. chalcodes containers to the coco fiber that they used for the lividum, and explain why. I also advise the removal of the sponges in the water dishes, and explain why. She says they're there so the crickets won't drown. I say put rocks in so the crickets can climb out. All the while, she was extremely receptive and clearly impressed with my knowledge. She swears to make all the improvements tomorrow (today). I feel warm and fuzzy inside when she says that. We end up talking for at least another 45 minutes and I continue to try to educate her a little here and there. Overall, it went really really well and I left the store feeling like the Jesus of spiders. T'was cool.