Do Not Attempt
I’m into safety as much as the next guy but sometimes I wonder why so much time and money is spent on trying to save me from myself. I never thought I was particularly dangerous but maybe there’s been a paradigm shift in the universe that has put me on a collision course with some unknown force of nature that will eventually destroy me unless I’m warned about…I don’t know…. the dangers of synchronized driving with 20 identical compact cars on a closed course. They must think I’m a moron. I don’t even KNOW that many people with the same car as mine.
And another thing; I would never, I mean never, wear a gorgeous red evening gown while crushing an old washer and dryer with a steamroller. So, advertising guys, no need for the DO NOT ATTEMPT warning at the bottom of my T.V. screen. I think I know enough to put on a pair of 501s for a job that big, okay? Jeez, this is getting tiresome!
Last week, I walked into my spin class ready for an hour of torture by an 85 pound woman whose perkiness makes me want to commit a felony holding my personal cooling device (also known as a cheap plastic fan) under my arm only to be greeted with an odd safety question by one of my fellow spinners:
“Is that a helmet?” she asked.
I forgive you, Kord.