So I was about to hop on my bike, which I'd just extracted from the back of the car, when I saw a little brown spider hanging from the handlebars. "This doesn't work for me," I said to the spider, and I picked him up with an empty soda bottle and set him down in the parking lot, today at 12:45 pm. It is now 1:10, and it's 80°, on its way to the mid-90's, and I did not set him in the shade, so, y'know, it turned out to be very hot on the ground. He ran around in a couple frantic circles for five seconds, tops, and then died. And even though I've killed hundreds of spiders, I feel really bad about it. I did not mean to burn you to death on hot blacktop, little spider. Life is pretty great; sorry I ended yours.