WALKING A THIN LINE

I was having a shitty day. Five shitty days in a row, actually, and there wasn't much to look forward to that I could foresee, either.

So I took a walk to clear my thoughts. And that's where I had this little run-in with some punkass teenager with a gun. I couldn't fucking believe it. This little acne-faced bastard jumped out from behind a tree and stuck his pistol in my face, demanding my wallet. And quite honestly, I wasn’t so much shocked as I was fed up. 

So I stood my ground, thinking "fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?" I gritted my teeth, squinted my eyes and locked stares with him - “you must be kidding me, dude? Man did you pick the wrong day. The wrong time. The wrong motherfucking guy. Cuz I got nothing, pal. Nothing. No money. No self-esteem. No nothing," I emphasized. "So if you think I’m afraid of a some faggoty bitch with a gun, you’re wrong. And if you think I’m afraid of getting shot, you’re dead wrong, my friend, because it's probably the best thing you could do for me. So, please, I'm begging you - shoot me. Do it. I dare you. ” 

I stared him right into his beady eyes and challenged him to squeeze that trigger. It was this go-ahead-make-my-day type of moment. It really was. For that brief few seconds, I was the most powerful man in the world. If I could bottle that attitude and drink it every morning... I’d be anything. Everything. Anyone. Everyone. If for only a few ticks of my watch, I was king of the world.

And then he shot me. 

I woke up to the scream of a siren. There was an oxygen mask on my face and two EMTs hovering over me, one sticking a needle in my arm and the other placing a patch of gauze on my ribcage as I searched my pocket for a wallet that would never be found.

Just goes to show, as smooth as you think you are – there’s always someone smoother.  And as low as you think you can sink – there’s always lower.