There's an old guy who lives on the street just around the corner from where I live. His domicile has a garage; the garage has an electric door made of wood and metal. The guy apparently has to hit a switch inside the garage, then quickly dash out before the door closes. The door is large and solid-- unlike many garage doors in the US, it's not composed of segments. The entire thing moves quickly (but ponderously) down to close. I think the old guy has about two to three seconds to run out the side before that door slams shut.
I'm fully expecting to see the dude trapped in his own door one day, squirming like bait half-swallowed by a giant brick fish.
When that day comes, I will laugh.
And only after that will I dial the emergency number.
_
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
playing chicken
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