I am writing you on behalf of your "memoirs of an idiot" article. My story isn't as much embarrassing as it is completely idiotic.
So one day I had a sudden urge to make some vanilla pudding, so I went to Kroger and bought a box of the Jello brand vanilla pudding. Well, on the back of the box it said that you had to refrigerate it for 4 hours, so I stuck it in the fridge. A few hours later my mom asks me "is the pudding ready?" I replied by telling her that I hadn't made it yet because the box said to refrigerate it for 4 hours. Needless to say, I had stuck a box of unmade pudding in the refrigerator for 4 hours where, as most educated people would know, you're supposed to put your finished product to cool or whatever. I guess I'm just stupid, but that's okay.
I love your website and someday that's gonna ruin me.
I have another bicycle story for you.
When I was growing up in rural High Springs, FL, my family owned a small farm which we lived on with my Aunt and Uncle and grandparents. My grandparents had a long dirt driveway with a lot of turns and hills on it (to counter erosion, my dad said) so naturally it was a good place to ride a bike and have races, etc.
By the time I was 13 years old I had ridden my bike down that driveway so many times, I decided it was time to try it, yes, with my eyes closed.
I was alone, and I tried it a few times doing that squinty thing where you don't quite keep your eyes closed, and then I went for it.
There were trees all along, so I knew if I made a mistake, I could be in for some serious pain.
I started cautiously, carefully remembering the location and severity of each turn.
Things were going well, and I triumphantly pedaled full-speed down the last straightaway and right into the closed rear door of my Aunt's minivan.
Apparently while I was at the other end of the driveway, she decided to inconsiderately pull out into the drive and stop.
I never heard such a weird sound as my head came into contact with the rear wiper blade assembly and my bike bounced off of the bumper, and it took me several moments before I could open my eyes and determine what had actually happened.
My dad witnessed the crash, and immediately ran over and inspected the van while I stumbled around in a daze.
I tried to explain why I did it, but it was difficult to get any sympathy from people by telling them I had been riding my bike with my eyes closed.
A couple of months later, we were together at my grandparent's house one night and I was asked to retrieve the movie Batman from my Aunt's house. It had been rainy and it was quite dark outside, but I had great confidence in my riding ability. After all, I actually did prove that I could ride down the driveway with my eyes closed, even if it did end in a spectacular crash. And this time I would have the added benefit of sight, so obstacles would not be a problem.
It should be noted that my dad had added a curve in the road that day in order to help with erosion or some such nonsense. The new road section went around several trees, but I was not worried at all. I took the new path cautiously on my way out, but once I had the video with me I decided to ride home flat-out.
When I came to the new curve in the road I made a quick decision to take a shortcut by following the old path, which was still in good "road" condition. And my night vision was pretty good by this point.
No one told me, though, that as part of the new driveway plan, my dad had included a new electric fence addition to one of the pastures. The new three-strand fence stretched right across the old driveway and was turned on.
I couldn't see it in the dark, and I pedaled headlong into the whole mess. My bicycle and I were tangled quite well amidst the strands, and the ground was wet from the rain. That fence was cracking like a whip. I could actually see the sparks going into me.
By the time I got untangled and got my bike out, I looked awful and I got in trouble for getting my clothes muddy when I went inside. Again it was hard to get any sympathy.
I guess we watched Batman after that.
ok that's my story.
Ryan can be contacted at email@example.com