Out of Pod Experience

At a Christmas Party for work, I had a bit too much to drink.. and I don't remember much about that night.


But thankfully a select few in the office have a picture of me shirtless wearing a tie and dancing like an idiot and will proudly regale me with the tales of my misdeeds during that night in order to stave off my wrath.

..and its a pre-diet picture... so... not flattering... not flattering at all....

*for the record, I can't use spellcheck in the forum on my phone. I tried to edit tricycle and kept having it time out. So screw it.

Alright guys, this is a true story but it's pretty ******* awkward and strange.

I was at the mall one time where I live, I had just smoked a bowl with some friends so my eyes were as red as the devil's ****, and my mind was endlessly wandering.

My friends ended up ditching me to go do something stupid, I honestly can't remember what but I wanted to hang around the book store because there was this girl I liked who was working there and plus I like to read and look for new books and stuff.

Anyway, I needed to take a dump, so I went and found the restrooms which I had to go up to the second floor to use.

So I'm in one of the two stalls there, droppin a deuce and minding my own business just takin my time.

Well there's one of those hand-blower-dryer things like right outside of my stall. And I guess some guy was drying his hands there. I didn't really pay any attention to it, I was just focusing on the business at hand. Also, don't you hate when they only have the air-blowers and no paper towels?

Anyway, after a minute or three of this guy "drying his hands" outside my stall, I started thinking, "man, this guy's been drying his hands for, like, a pretty long time, that's strange."

So I end up glancing up through the crack of the stall door, and this guy, an average-sized dude wearing some kind of coat and glasses, is just staring in at me watching me drop a ******* deuce.

No joke, seriously. This guy is just like staring at me, probably shooting a load in his pants or something.

After maybe, like, three or more seconds (which I think seemed a lot longer at the time), he realizes that I've spotted him and he basically just flees the bathroom like a ghost, just totally ran away like the snake he is.

I didn't even say anything. I didn't even really comprehend what was going on at the time it was happening but once he ran away I just kind of laughed. Like wow. What a ******* loser.

Edit: Just so you guys know, those "stars" up there in my post are supposed to be curse words.

Ill never tell....


But just to give people a mental image of the Christmas party... the Chris Farley Chippendale's sketch.

Im told it was something just like that.

I fell asleep with my head ending up on this polish fellow's lap one time. We were on a plane with an empty seat between us and I was exhausted, so i made an "L" shape to put my head down or at least rest at an angle. 3 hours go by and I was looking up at a smiling face with my hair everywhere in this guy's lap.

At least his thigh made a pretty soft pillow..

Well, I think it is against the forum rules to say something like that and then not divulge the details.

Anything you might do while you're naked.

Senior year in high school. I had a foot of my gut taken out less than a year earlier and I was not ready for athletic participation (mentally speaking) but I needed and after school activity to gain the privileged to drive my vehicle to school instead of walking or bussing it, so I decided to be the manager for the women's volleyball team.

One afternoon I walked into the gym and all of the ladies were at the opposite end of the gym. One of the volleyballs was right by me and I went to kick it to the other side of the gym. Well, even though I was a seasoned soccer player, as I kicked the ball I miss judged the height of the. I swept my foot over the top of the ball. I then flew into the air. In the split second I was in the air I thought how can I fall quietly. I swung myself to the side and landed extremely loudly in a fairly quiet gym. Next thing you know, 15 pairs of eye turned my direction. There was no laughter and they were actually quite concerned as they new my medical history but that did not change the fact that it was awkward awkward.

Pretty much. I was unable to make the men's squad due to massive deconditioning so I just asked the women's head coach the following day. I had known most of the administration most of my life in one form or another. Swam against most of the teachers children, one of which was the daughter of the women's team head coach. I also played soccer with her son for many years.

Some years ago I pulled the bluff of my life.

I was living back in Venezuela and was returning late to my house. Back then my spot in the house had a door that you manually had to lock down with heavy lock. So it was like 2AM, street was deserted, I park , go down to the door to unlock the lock , open the doors, drive in and then lock back again, as I did every single time.

But this time, when I parked, a very strange looking car (fully shaded windows, blacker than Satan´s soul , couldn´t see a thing inside) slowly approaches the street at a snail pace, the car was so slow it was practically walking casually, at 2AM, in a deserted street, right where I was just between the huge doors to my garage and a bit away from my car.

Recognizing danger upon me, since everyone knows most kidnappings, robberies, rapings and chtulhu sightings happens at night in deserted streets I had to analyze my situation.

My car required roughly 1 to 3 minutes to start (it was one of my first cars, a beat down pickup truck that looked good but was broken inside, the cheap ones that you love but have faulty carbs, ignitions and steering, but they cheap because you are a young, semi broke and have nothing else to lay upon at the time) and opening the door to my house also took several minutes due to the amount of locks.
So there I was, pondering what to do, knowing that the slowly gliding car, now a few yeards/meters from me not only had noticed me, but was now slowly positioning close to me.

It was all slow motion in my mind at the moment. I knew I couldnt run into my house, it would only make things worse and I couldnt escape in my beat up car that needed pre heating and several lucky strikes for the ignition to start the engine. There was only endless road to my left and right and in front (I lived in the middle of a Y junction).

So as time slowed to a crawl and the car was now parking, I could notice about 4 shapes inside of them, thugs always go in groups, and they as sure were armed to hell, willing to kill (this is Venezuela, we all grow up knowing this) and perhaps drugged up to hell, this just narrowed my reasoning at knowing that fight or flee was well, out of my reach.

Running for it was impossible, houses in Venezuela have huge walls, piked with "concertina" wire, or military style sawed wire, broken bottle glass firmly affixed and many other methods of medieval style cutting and deterring gizmos meant to slow, entangle and cut you up. No one would hear my scream for help either, we have no real police coverage so no "cavalry" of luck was coming, I was just in my own horror slasher movie of angst knowing I was in a really really bad spot.

So I resorted to the only thing left and ingrained in my mind by my elders.

Bad people are cowards, they always go in groups, and only truly demonic psychotic minds go alone , and in this case, seeing amorphous shapes inside that car that was slowly parking in front of me made me realize I was facing regular street killers, bandits of opportunity, the kind that hunt people in my same predicament.

I knew I was done, either for a severe beating/**** in the best case scenario and all of that plus death in the worst.

One of those moments I will never forget, one of those moments I hardly like to remember.

So I had to bluff, bet on the thugs primal fear of not catching me by surprise but knowing I will stand up and perhaps take one or two somehow.

I currently played upon all of my city´s stereotypes, I used to drive an old pickup truck, in my city of Maracaibo pickup truck users are usually armed to the teeth, most of them must be, pickup trucks are the main source of robberies, so people that like them know they will be robbed or know they are protected by paying "vaccination" (monthly protection fees to big gangs), they walk a certain way, they behave a certain way, I had to assure them I was one and that I was armed.

A most dangerous gambit, but I had come to the realization that I was already deep into a bad situation, and unfortunately due to family pressure I had to drop my real and now sorely needed Makarov (brazilian and russian weps are common in vzla), I missed that ugly looking bastard of reliability in that moment, so easily concealable and now, I just imagined I still had it with me.

So I decided to set my gaze upon the spot I knew the driver was. I extrapolated that drivers are the first guys that want to run out, so more prone to fleeing upon pressure.

I looked at the window spot the driver was, without blinking as I "reached" for my imaginary makarov hidden "as usual" in my back, on the waistline, held by my jeans, slowly, deliberately, as I walked to a lamppost that would serve me as cover and would hide most of my vertical standing body, specially the chest, the most common point of fire.

I was right now knowing I would die if they reacted, if you know the feeling, you are already on the edge, it´s a strange form of feeling of total alienation, a feeling I dislike, pumped of adrenalin, heart beating and rigidity in your muscles as you naturally adopt a low brow posture and lower your head as your eyes are level to a fixed point, surrounding data being filtered.

I still remember the trees, the light, the sound of the car engine slowly revving, the leaves clashing against each other, my gaze fixated but digesting everything ... I was scared to hell, but I needed composture, all I believed was to fix my gaze upon the driver, I knew he was watching me, and he knew it too, I told him silently that I didnt care if 5 guys jumped on me, I was going to shoot towards him and him alone, I almost felt the grip of my old makarov back, its pretty unique , unlike glocks or berettas, at least to me anyway.

And time froze.