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in article , bearsbuddy at
wrote on 3/7/05 6:35 PM:

"riverman" wrote in message
...
Great idea for a thread! I've been tossing around the idea of a collection
of short vignettes of every time I've almost died...either from being
hammered and not quite getting across the threshold, or taking a random
left turn when later I discover that a right turn would have been fatal.
Why not start a new thread, tell us your 'times I almost died' tale, and
lets hear some skin crawlers from folks.

--riverman
You go first, I'll be right on your tail :-)

I can only recall one time in my life when I actually thought I was gonna
die.

I was perfectly sober, met a girl at a bar. We went out side to talk.
After we had decided that I would pick her up on a Sat. and go ridin' on my
Harley, some girl came up and began arguing with the girl I had just met.
Next thing I know there are these drunk and drugged out fellas talkin' ****
to me? Well, being young, dumb, and you know the rest. I began talking
**** back. Me and this one guy get to tusslin' about, when one of his
buddies shoves a hawk-bill knife up against my throat and says, "I'll cut
your ass mother****er!" The only words that came out of my mouth were,
"this ain't necessary." Real macho, I know. The only thing I could think
of at the time was me wakin' up dead in the morgue and him soberin' up in
jail sayin', "I did what?"

Thankfully, the girls went to fightin' and the guyz turn their attentions to
a catfight. I helped break the girls up, while the other guyz went after
some other poor fella. I got the girl for one night and decided to never
see her again after that.

And here I am, girless, but alive.

Mark

The makings of a decent movie short Mark! Or a rock video.

Just last week I was lined up for beer at a Motley Crue concert (seriously,
I was) and these two girls in line flashed a bunch of American cash. Some
headbanger dude made a goofy comment about how since they were American they
must be rich, so could they buy us all beer?

One of the girls didn't seem to get that it was a joke and reacted a bit
snottily, so I tried to lighten the mood by saying "Hey, relax, they are
probably just up from Potsdam." (The inference being that they were from a
rather small and dull border town in upper NY state).

Unfortunately I touched a nerve, and this young woman, who must have been
all of 5'4", turned on me and said "I ain't from no f----- Potsdam. I'm from
Massena!" Unfortunately this resulted in the entire beer line, perhaps 50
persons, erupting in laughter. To someone from Ottawa, the difference
between Massena and Potsdam is not easily discerned.

And, unfortunately, I could not resist responding "Ooo, Massena...you've got
that big dam there and everything!" Oops.

At this point it became clear to me that her blood was boiling, which was
soon confirmed with her next statement: "Look, asshole, I ain't from f------
Postdam, and I ain't even from Massena, I come from Syracuse, I just moved
to Massena to be with my boyfriend."

All I could do in response - trying very hard not to break into a belly
laugh like most people in the line - was to raise an eyebrow and bite my
lip. She then became totally enraged and said "You know what buddy, I think
I'm going to kick your ass right here!"

Now, I am 6'4" and about 220. I am 36 years old. I have a decent selection
of grey hair. I work with children and young adults with intellectual
disabilities. The beer I was about to buy was to be my first in several
weeks. What could I do but respond as follows...knowing full well that it
might put my life in jeopardy...

"Miss, before we proceed, I have to tell you something." And here I paused,
and seeing she was interested in what was coming next, I continued: "I'm 36
years old with grey hair in a beer line at a Motley Crew concert. I have to
tell you that getting my ass kicked by some girl from Massena who got mad at
me because I said she was from Potsdam would be about the coolest thing that
could possibly happen to me, and certainly a much better story than anything
I'd expected to walk away with from here tonight."

Looking much like Tinkerntom at a convention of atheists, she stared up at
me, brow furrowed, for what seemed like an eternity. Then she simply turned
away and focused on ordering her beer. And my life was spared.

But next time I drive through Massena I may find myself crouching a bit low
in the seat.

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