Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Campari and JAWS!

I have strikingly weak nerves. If I hear a gunshot on TV, I jump in my seat. If I hear a door bell on TV, I jump in my seat. If my door bell rings, as in real life, I nearly faint in a combination of fright and surprise. In fact, if someone were to throw me a surprise party or suddenly unwrap themselves from a cardboard box like in those scare prank compilations on Americas Funniest Home Videos, I fear I might slip into a scare-induced coma.

Which is perhaps why I ought to have passed on Mads' offer of a Campari and soda the other night when we settled down on the couch to watch Jaws. Because before I knew it, Richard Dreyfuss was diving around in the ocean beneath a boat, and YIKES!, out of nowhere, looking straight into the very pale face of a semi-eaten drowned man with his eyes still wide open.

And I jumped in my seat.

And as you may have already guessed, that was also about when there was suddenly Campari and soda all over the place. On my cardigan. On Mads' cardigan. His tee. The white pillows on the really neat couch. In the really neat apartment. That he is currently subletting from some really stylish friends.

The End.

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