A simple chat with an old friend reminded me of a crazy event that occurred during my ‘drinking’ phase. Most teens have their drinking phase right into college and since I didn’t go to college until I hit twenty-two, I got a late start. Spending nearly five years working non-stop after high school I decided it was time to hang with friends and party.
I met a lot of people and had loads of fun times. I remember this one night after the bar closed, my friend Dave and I wanted to visit a friend, who unfortunately was stuck at work and couldn’t party with us.
I lived in British Columbia at the time, and in case you don’t know, it’s very hilly and there are a lot of paths through the trees. It was the middle of the night and we had to take a shortcut to get to my friend’s office, using only cell phones for light was a bit terrifying if not a little on the nutty side.
Once I thought it was safe, I turned off my cell phone, completely unaware of the danger that surrounded me.
Suddenly, I was falling. Down, down, down I went.
Apparently, the trail we were on opened up into a ditch and I decided to pay it a little visit.
They say that drunk people never get injured. Well, not true, but they can avoid massive injury, if only just barely. I didn’t realize until the next day that I had narrowly escaped what could have been a tragic, drunken head injury.
The ditch I’d fallen into had a metal tube jutting out inches from where I’d landed and all I’d gotten was a melon-sized bruise on my thigh.
I consider myself extremely lucky and try to be more careful when walking on lands that may not be very predictable.
Note to self: save death-defying stunts for the pros.
A Clumsy Writer