Epic Tales of Hyperbole

Today, while innocently making my way into Providence HS, I had a near-death experience.  It was a beauty pageant.  To my left were designer hand bags, dresses, jewelry and other items young beauty pageant contestants might be interested in purchasing.  To my right, well trained, rigid pageant officials.  Up ahead contestants waiting with doll-like statures; all I could think of was Chucky.  I couldn’t really see their faces through the makeup, but their very visible smiles chilled me (in the way that takes away the man and leaves a child about to pee his pants from fright).  And behind me, just through the the thick wall of air-choking haze were the nervous chain-smoking parents.  I was trapped.

There was at least a small desire to just accept my fate and give in to the tortures I would face.   But my fight or flight instinct kicked in and with the determination of a running back I dodged the contestants, plowed through the hoards of parents, picked a path and ran straight and true through the billows of smoke.

After coughing up a lung like a kid after his first toke of a cigarette, I looked around and realized I did it:  I stared death in the face and came out alive. 

In retrospect I wish I had taken some photos to share with you all, but like when you are running from the chainsaw wielding maniac, you don’t stop to look back, you just run.