When I was 19 I went to Hong Kong on my own. The potent mix of teenage over confidence and fresh testosterone led me to believe I needed to visit a small Chinese industrial town alone to celebrate Chinese New Years amongst the people. So I got on a bus that drove through the day and into the night and at 4:00am it dropped me off just past nowhere. Eventually a man picked me up in his car. I didn’t want to go, but I could not imagine any other thing to do - I don’t speak Chinese, I have no cell phone, and I don’t even know where I am. So the car drives me around and the guy doesn’t speak English. A big hotel appears on the horizon like a gleaming mirage answering all of my western, white boy prayers. I thought “awesome, I can’t believe this guy is taking me to a hotel!” We drove up and I started to feel relaxed already. He slowed down at the entrance and I began to unbuckle. Before I could open the door though, he sped back up and drove down a long dark alley. The car stopped and he dragged me out. I was thinking I’m going to die. Thoughts like “I wish I had some more Yuan in my fucking wallet to give this guy – I hope he’ll take what I have and leave me alone” criss crossed my mind. I’d heard of this shit happening to tourists before, and I knew he had a gun. I weighed the situation and figured that if he beat me up I’d consider myself lucky. It seemed to make more sense for him to kill me and strip me of my ID then it did for him to beat me up and let me run to the police. I’m fucking dead. 19 and dead.
Well look, I’m not here to tell that story, and it’s a weird one, but I’ll leave it at this: I got away with my life and ended up getting a decent nights rest, though not at the hotel. The important part, is that you understand, I am acquainted with the edge.
So today is Easter. About 1,000,000 years ago, the only son of God died and came back to life. I’m not religious, but this is undeniably an impressive trick. My family lives in a different country, so I was going to spend the holiday alone. The plan was this: gorge myself on Easter candy and try not to feel too alone. My plans were foiled when my friend invited me to his folk’s house for Easter dinner. Nothing fancy, but a way better option than spending the day alone, trying not to feel alone.
We had all been chatting for a few hours before the roast was put out on the table. It was delicious. I don’t eat much meat, so I’m not an expert on this one, but as far as I know, that was a great hunk of meat. Anyways this is what its like to live on the edge: I’m a guest at friend’s parents house on the holiest day of the year. I’d had a bit to drink, but in no way was I drunk. Then, there it was: the set up for the most perfect penis joke. If I were with my boys on a night out I wouldn’t hesitate for a second; but this was not a night out, it’s was holiday dinner with a friend and his parents. But this was too good a chance to let slide by. Without much hesitation, I slowly delivered the penis joke. It’s not that I was confident that this was the right thing to do. In fact, I knew it was the wrong thing to do. But this isn’t about etiquette at tea parties, this is about finding the edge in a boring life, a life riddled by inane paradoxes like, “how can I watch House and the Office if they are both showing at 8:00pm.” That’s what this is about, looking at that edge, and saying “fuck you” as you slowly cross it.
The joke went over well. It was one of those times when the half seconds felt like weeks. I didn’t think that they were going to laugh. They didn’t laugh for about two long seconds, but then it clicked. They got it. That moment when you smoothly get away with something that everyone knows you shouldn’t be doing and everyone is slightly better off for it; that’s life on the edge.
Well look, I’m not here to tell that story, and it’s a weird one, but I’ll leave it at this: I got away with my life and ended up getting a decent nights rest, though not at the hotel. The important part, is that you understand, I am acquainted with the edge.
So today is Easter. About 1,000,000 years ago, the only son of God died and came back to life. I’m not religious, but this is undeniably an impressive trick. My family lives in a different country, so I was going to spend the holiday alone. The plan was this: gorge myself on Easter candy and try not to feel too alone. My plans were foiled when my friend invited me to his folk’s house for Easter dinner. Nothing fancy, but a way better option than spending the day alone, trying not to feel alone.
We had all been chatting for a few hours before the roast was put out on the table. It was delicious. I don’t eat much meat, so I’m not an expert on this one, but as far as I know, that was a great hunk of meat. Anyways this is what its like to live on the edge: I’m a guest at friend’s parents house on the holiest day of the year. I’d had a bit to drink, but in no way was I drunk. Then, there it was: the set up for the most perfect penis joke. If I were with my boys on a night out I wouldn’t hesitate for a second; but this was not a night out, it’s was holiday dinner with a friend and his parents. But this was too good a chance to let slide by. Without much hesitation, I slowly delivered the penis joke. It’s not that I was confident that this was the right thing to do. In fact, I knew it was the wrong thing to do. But this isn’t about etiquette at tea parties, this is about finding the edge in a boring life, a life riddled by inane paradoxes like, “how can I watch House and the Office if they are both showing at 8:00pm.” That’s what this is about, looking at that edge, and saying “fuck you” as you slowly cross it.
The joke went over well. It was one of those times when the half seconds felt like weeks. I didn’t think that they were going to laugh. They didn’t laugh for about two long seconds, but then it clicked. They got it. That moment when you smoothly get away with something that everyone knows you shouldn’t be doing and everyone is slightly better off for it; that’s life on the edge.
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