SkyCanoeing

         I spend a lot of my time these days sky-canoeing. It’s where I strap myself into a canoe or a kayak and get pushed out of a plane. It’s very relaxing believe it or not, and it does wonders for my skin.
         There was one time I had actually left the aircraft without a parachute! Instead of panicking, I remembered two things:

1.          When people fall out of planes, they usually fall unconscious or have a heart attack and pass away by the time they hit the ground; as they already know they’re going to die; and…

2.          There was somebody who fell off of a really big bridge, who was doing some maintenance or something, and his tool box hit the water first, breaking the surface and the maintenance guy didn’t die because of this.

         I decided I was going to go James Bond Style and refer myself to the second of the two thoughts. I was never one for giving up anyway.
         I held on tight to the canoe and waited for the perfect moment. I was probably going to become a watery smudge on the surface of the sea, but who cares?
         I unstrapped myself from the canoe but held on with a grip of steel. I slowly tilted the canoe so it was pointing straight down instead of being horizontal. The speed went up tremendously and the still surface of the water came rushing up to meet me and my canoe.
         After you, I thought and pushed off with all my might from the side of the canoe upwards, so the canoe shot into the sea like a bullet through a fish tank. I followed straight after, in as streamline a position as I could make. I imagined the local diving team would have been quite proud of that entry.

         Unfortunately, there was a reason there was only one time I forgot the parachute. There was also a reason nobody does idiotic things like sky-canoeing anymore.
         I am the idiot; the canoe, my dunce’s cap; the sea bed, my seat in the corner of the room.