I've never almost been run over by a train by crossing the tracks without looking. However, it is a fear of mine that my little sister exploits needlessly. Whenever we are in the car together and we cross some tracks, she will throw up her arms and scream like we are about to be all up in some train grill. The first time she did this, I peed a little.
I've never been in a blatantly dangerous situation, but having spent the better portion of my developmental years in a rather dangerous city, I've been in some shady places. There was the time a drifter stopped to discuss politics with a group of my friends outside a coffee shop-- questionable safety. There was the time while walking along The River on a date, a homeless man screamed racial slurs at us that didn't even apply-- questionable safety. And then there was the time my dad took the whole family inside a store bedecked by rainbow banners called "Inz & Outz" before realizing that it was a gay novelty retailer-- probably safe, but certainly uncomfortable.
Most of my adventures range from the absurd to the slightly iffy. They've been conducted with a string of rather unwilling participants-- my parents, my siblings, friends who thought they wanted directions from me (but really probably didn't because I could get lost in a three-bedroom house). Now, alongside two faithful pals who share my taste for oddities, I embark upon what I will christen The Summer of Thunder (because that sounds very dramatic and cool).
These are our stories.
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