"Boys will be boys."
Anonymous

The Escape
When I was about nineteen, I was over at my cousin Stephen's house one Friday night, hanging out with him, my cousin Johnny, future best man Scott and a few of our other friends. As usual, we were listening to loud music, telling jokes, watching TV, playing poker and eating pizza, all at the same time. None of us were married yet, not even close, and we were arguing and talking about all the usual things guys of that age discuss: girls, cars, movies, music, concerts, and school. Oh yeah, we were also talking about how to meet girls. As the night wore on, we played poker of every variety: Texas hold 'em, five-card draw, Jacks are wild, you get the idea.

At some point, we started talking about physical prowess and about who could or couldn't do what, pull-ups, sit-ups, kick the top of the doorway, etc. I announced that I could take the plastic top-piece that holds together a six-pack of soda and fold it over upon itself until it became one single plastic circle the width of a soda can. I claimed that I could wrap the plastic circle over my two big toes, stand on my head and break it apart using only the strength of my feet. Not quite Houdini, but it got their attention.

Stephen didn't believe this idiotic idea for a second and immediately bet me ten thousand dollars that I couldn't do it. I accepted. They ran to get a soda-can holder, and I took off my shoes and socks to prepare myself for the challenge. Limbering up and stretching, I took some deep breaths. Then, carefully, I folded the cover into one circle the size of a soda can. The crowd tensed as I sat on the floor and put the plastic over my toes. Then the room drew deathly quiet. I closed my eyes and took several meditative breaths then leaned forward and pulled myself into a headstand, which is pretty easy to do if you use your forearms to support 91 90 yourself. They watched my toes and waited. And with one powerful move, I broke the plastic apart. The crowd went wild! Congratulations all around. You might be wondering what about the ten thousand dollars? I didn't collect it, a fact that I remind Uncle Stephen of from time to time. It was kind of a silly bet anyway.

Knowing that I could do it was satisfaction enough, and I knew I could, since earlier in the day I already had done it... twice.
- Hank Frazee, Author of  Referral Upgrade   and  Before We Say "Goodnight"
or visit our  archives to see or share any of my previous posts.