Whilst being prepared to fully embrace the fun at all times.
Sometimes I make errors in judgement.
Last week I made an error….
Whilst on the gorgeous island of Rhodes, my youngest celebrated her birthday and we had an afternoon of adventure to mark the occasion.
We went paragliding; that was pretty fun, there were a couple of moments where I felt my death was rapidly approaching as the ocean swam 150 metres below me. However, all in all, I was able to simply sit back and enjoy the ride.
Not content with just one activity, we also went on the “rings”.
For those of you not familiar with this concept or “ride”, allow me to elaborate.
The rings are soft, squidy doughnuts style seats. Imagine the ring you get when you have a case of piles and sprinkle it with a growth hormone and you have a “ring”.
They are then attached by a slim looking cord to a powerful speed boat, which is manned by a rather luscious looking Greek man.
Challenge number one – getting into the fecker.
Bearing in mind the luscious looking Greek man, and my current single status this was something I needed to get right. My Shirley Valentine status depended on it.
I stopped trying to retrieve my swimsuit from my rear (post paragliding trauma). And elegantly waltzed into the sea, inwardly screaming as my toes touched sharp peddles intertwined with the ice cold water.
I reached the “ring”…
“Just ‘op in” said the luscious looking Greek man.
Ascertaining my lady pillows were firmly encased in my swimsuit, I stared down the “ring” and prayed to the universe for me to be able to land this thing.
I ‘op-Ed’ in – it felt more like a thud of a large object being dropped from a great height, and my daughter’s snigger told me elegance may not have been achieved. However I took the win that my rump was in the “ring” rather than my face in the sea.
The luscious looking Greek man grinned as my daughter merely blinked and was sitting in the other “ring”.
“Ladies – we go slow, slow or fast, fast…” the luscious looking Greek man said.
Well I didn’t want to look a wuss did I.
Gently we pulled out of the beach, bobbing along like cheery little ducks on a sunny day.
Then.
He hit the accelerator like a brick, and the slim looking cord yanked us forward. We must have been clearing over a 1000 miles an hour as we hurtled across the sea as if we were being chased.
My knuckles turned white and my voice yelled expletives that were not befitting of the luscious looking Greek mans future wife.
The waves generated by the boat came for me, spitting in my face, and aggressively beating my insides.
It was clear I was going to die at sea.
30 seconds into the sprint, my “ring” screeched across a wave, flying towards my daughter, together the “rings” collided with the force of Tyson’s fist and my “ring” rose out of the sea like Neptune and my fingers let go of the handles as they simply couldn’t take anymore.
For a moment I flew with the magnificence of an eagle, and then I felt with the gracefulness of slime when it splats.
I rose from under the waves coughing, hair stuck to my face, mascara dripping down my cheeks. I could only hear luscious looking Greek man as my contacts threaten to curl up inside my eyelids through sheer shame removing sight from me.
“Lady, I help,” I heard the luscious looking Greek man say.
Then I felt him.
Not in a Mills & Boon kind of way – but more in a final of a Strongman competition kind of way – as he reached his hands onto my life jacket covered torso and heaved with a grunt as he yanked me out of the sea and onto the boat unceremoniously.
I blinked at him, suddenly very aware of my drowned rat look I was wearing, conscious that wife of luscious looking Greek man was a goal I was not attaining today.
He sighed as he cracked his back, and I sighed as he gestured for me to re-enter the ring….
Which I did with a plop….
And that my friends was my error in judgement, which cost me dignity, a contact lens and a future marriage…..
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