Luckily for everyone involved, the cartoon to the left never actually came to pass. That's just a glimpse into a horrible, possible future if not for a crisis narrowly averted. I was helping a friend dig out a garden patch behind her house today. Outside. In the heat. I know, it sounds crazy already. But get this -- I started digging up jagged bricks, broken glass and twisted, rusty metal things I can't even describe.
Who puts this stuff underground?! Some kind of madman is my guess. Anyway, after nearly killing myself tilling soil in the sun for two hours, I went inside to get a drink. And what do my eyes see sticking up out of my sneaker? What is that...a twig? I reach down to brush it away and ZING! It's a rusty old, crusty old two-inch nail that just missed puncturing my foot by a sixteenth of an inch!
Who knows what kind of virulent poisons that thing would've injected into my bloodstream on its way out through the top of my foot? Didn't they used to say you could get lockjaw from stepping on rusty nails? I don't even know what that is but it sounds horrible. I think I almost died today. This is why I don't go outside. Click the photos below to see the size of the nail that almost killed me. Am I overreacting? I don't think so. -v
Update: New Balance has still not offered me a sponsorship deal. Nuts.