It Could Happen

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Saw this photo on Twitter and actually sat staring at it for a long time.

That is one dopey bastard, right?

But I am of the mind that I can see it happening.

To me.

Years ago.

I'm imagining that the guy behind him goaded him into it.

"You can't do it! You're too fat!"

I also imagine that perhaps there was a bit of alcohol involved.

"I'm not as fat as you think. I'm agile," the Cliff-like guy in the photo might say.

"Care to make it interesting?" The guy goading me asks. In my head it's one of my brother's voices. "Let's say a hundred bucks?"

"I'm not going to do it with an audience," I say.

"No. Just you and me. If you start to get stuck I'll help."

"A hundred bucks?"

"And a case of Heiny Light."

"Get out of my way!"

And that's how I see it happening.

Yet, of course, the real story doesn't start until it becomes readily apparent that I can't wiggle my way free. Can you imagine what this poor bastard went through?

A call to the fire department.

Them cutting the bars so he can get out.

The firemen laughing.

The total strangers gathered laughing.

The endless laughter that comes up whenever someone says the word playground.

Forever.

And then using that hundred bucks to buy a new whatever-the-hell-that-is for the kids to play on.

It could happen.

Comments

Carrie Lynn Fazzolari said…
Now that's funny. I can hear Jeff doing the goading. . . I can't stop giggling.
20 July, 2013
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