My Date With Gravity!
My Date With Gravity!!!
Some of you are thinking, gravity? Doesn't he mean his date with destiny? Trust me, same thing.
Before I explain the gravity thing let me first start with what has become a pleasant tradition here in San Diego, the Holiday Bowl. Almost every year the Holiday Bowl gives us an exciting game that keeps us on the edge of our seats. Two college teams battling it out in, I prefer to call it, Jack Murphy Stadium. There are additional benefits to the Holiday Bowl, the Club Level bar, and beautiful college girls. If the game by some chance is boring, or even if the game isn't, there is always something wonderful to watch.
That is unless one of the teams is Cal. That has to be the homeliest group of brainwashed liberal women I have ever seen. There were about 35,000 Cal fans at the stadium that night and my guess is not one of them shaved their legs!
From now on the Holiday Bowl Committee has to guarantee that at least one of the teams comes from Arizona. Those girls are all gorgeous.
At this point I should comment that many women who read my weekly rant have complained that I’m a bit of a chauvinist and that my rants at times are offensive to women………………..As I was saying, no pigs at the Holiday Bowl.
Here’s where the gravity thing comes in. First of all to get to the game we took the trolley. Trolley is a Greek word meaning LET’S CRAM AS MANY PEOPLE INTO A SMALL RECTANGLE WITH WHEELS AS POSSIBLE AND THEN STOP EVERY FEW HUNDRED YARDS TO PACK MORE PEOPLE IN. LET’S MAKE SURE THEY’RE PACKED IN SO TIGHT THEY KNOW WHAT KIND OF UNDERWEAR EACH OTHER IS WEARING!!!! LET’S MAKE SURE THAT SOME OF THEM DON’T BATHE OR WEAR DEODORANT!!!!! THE RIDE TO AUSCHWITZ WAS MORE COMFORTABLE!!!!
Anyway, as the game ended we pondered the trolley ride back and saw the line of sardines waiting to be packed into the trains for the hell ride back. It was at this point that one of our group had a marvelous idea. He had arrived late for the game and had parked his car in the Costco parking lot across from the stadium. He hiked about a mile to the stadium as he followed the road around.
“Hey why don’t we climb up the hill and hop the fence and take a shortcut back to my car. I’ll drop you all off at your cars.”
I don’t know why it didn’t register when he said it. I don’t do hills and I don’t hop. I certainly don’t do both at the same time.
It may have been the margaritas talking. I had four margaritas at the game. I know that sounds a tad gay, having a margarita at a football game, but these were ten dollar margaritas and paying ten dollars for a margarit a does make you feel like you’re getting screwed .
So we start off on our “shortcut” dodging the traffic exiting the stadium and reached the bottom of “the hill.” The hill was anywhere from 30 to 100 feet high, maybe 200 feet high, and the fence at the top was probably somewhere between 4 and 16 feet high. It was irrelevant. 47 year old overweight fools shouldn’t climb anything.
It had been raining so the hill was muddy. As I struggled to get up this “hell hill” it dawned on me why you never see fat mountain climbers. You don’t see fat skydivers or fat bungee jumpers. You never see a fat man parasail or a chubby hang glider. Fat men don’t bobsled or downhill ski. Why? GRAVITY!!!!!!!
Gravity is an Egyptian word meaning, KEEP YOUR FAT ASS ON THE COUCH!!!!! Gravity is a fat man’s enemy. Gravity causes heart attacks and pain.
The friend who had suggested this route is Mexican. I say that only because of his following quote; “You probably shouldn’t do this. I’m Mexican; my family has been crawling over hills and hopping fences for years. But you, you’re screwed.”
Well I made it up that hill and I started to scale the fence. It wasn’t easy but I made it to the top…..Briefly.
Someone once told me that if you throw a penny off of the Empire State building it will reach speeds of up to 67 miles hour before it hits the pavement.
I’m much faster.
I can tell you this. Fat people don’t bounce when you drop them.
They say your life flashes before your eyes at the moment of your death but when you’re just going to be seriously injured the only thing you can think of is “Shiiiiii…………”
Using my catlike reflexes I was able to brake my fall, most cats land on their feet, I landed on my face.
I wasn’t unconscious that long. Just a few seconds actually. At the moment I regained consciousness I was thinking, “Auntie Emm, Auntie Emm it’s a twister! It’s a twister!” Then I checked for my teeth.
I have several bruises, a cut fat lip, a sore jaw, sore teeth, and few cuts and scrapes but nothing is worse than the humiliation. My friends rushed to my aid, the Mexican was first. When they realized I hadn’t died, they laughed. I was laughing too…..on the inside.
When I got home my wife wanted to rush me to Urgent Care. She was such a kind loving wife at first. She explained to me in loving tones why a fat bastard like me shouldn’t climb. Then she laughed at me. I was laughing too…..on the inside.
We have a tendency to laugh at other people’s misfortunes and I for one think that’s a good thing. It helps the misfortunate learn from their mistakes. Ridicule is a wonderful teacher.
By the way I’m going back. Back to that hill and that fence.
I know I can make it.
It's a guy thing.
We never learn.