In honor of my BFF Stephanie...since this is her favorite story about moi...
Once upon a time, Steven spent his summer of 2006 pretending to study in London. I say pretend because I only spent an hour a week in a classroom. Or less. A few days before I was suppose to fly home, the plot to blow up the planes flying from Heathrow to the U.S. was uncovered. It is because of this plot that we still cannot travel with liquids. Stupid terrorists. We were warned that the terrorists might try a different plot in London that day, so we should avoid the Tube. Since all my London friends had homework and studying, I took off by myself and had a nice little lazy walk around London. So I was walking around the city...on a street that looked like this...
My nerves were a bit heightened because of all this excitement. I suddenly heard a funny noise and turned around to see this big truck driving real fast down a narrow street. Right as the trunk was driving by me, I heard a noise that sounded like a gunshot and right then something really hard nailed me right in the back. I thought for sure I was dying. I reached around my back trying to find the blood and hole that surely was just made at the base of my spine. I kept waiting for my life to flash before my eyes and for the blackness to engulf me.
So...turns out...the truck drove over a water bottle causing the bottle to explode and the cap to hit me square in the back. Well that is what the strangers behind me told me when they stopped laughing.
And yes, as I was dying, my only thought was...I wish I watched more TV.
