When I was much, much younger, I was trying to impress a girl who lived up the road. She giggled at my jokes (which was an instant winner for me), so we went walking down the street to play in the creek. There, we saw standing water from a rain storm that had happened three nights before.
Being that it was Texas (and being that this was a nasty creek), a smell most foul rose from the – now – putrid reservoir. She suggested we play in it. I happily agreed. Only, when I got in, she didn’t follow. And I quickly felt something awful, of-human-origin, and slimy beneath my feet inside this pool of (what was probably) toxic waste.
There I stood, bereft of all dignity, looking steadily into her eyes, bouncing in a steady giggle. I never saw her again, and when I washed up, I swore off girls forever (which lasted about a week).
That guy is now a graduate student at Wheaton College. And these are his daily tales…
