bungee jump

Everybody wants to be looked upon with heroic admiration and bravery.
Apparently, I don’t.
I had already gone skydiving so I decided that bungee jumping wouldn’t be that different.
So I buy my ticket, take my two best friends, and head down to Arizona.
The night before the jump I kept having terrible thoughts that tomorrow was going to change the rest of my life.
(And of course, it did, but for very unrelated reasons.)
All night I was worried that it was because I was going to be paralyzed.
The next morning we woke up bright and early before the sun and headed out to the bridge.
We arrived and it didn’t look so bad.
Of course, anything an arms length away was pure blackness because it still wasn’t quite dawn.
Me and the other jumpers hang out and wait for the instructor to arrive with his gear.
As we do this the sun slowly comes up and we slowly see deeper and deeper into the abyss that we are about to jump into.
Pretending to be the bravest of the souls, I volunteered to go first.
They strapped on my harness, gave me important instructions, and set me loose.
I was to climb to the very top railing and just jump.
JUST JUMP was the instruction.
I climb up one railing.
And another.
And start crying.
Embarrassing,  lame crying.
To say the least I was quite the disappointing first jump of the day.
But my friends just helped me pack up the car and start driving home without saying anything.
So that was nice.