Red-Neck Segway

     As you, anonymous internet browser, continue to read this, keep in mind that this happened a couple of months ago. Not years. Months.

     My family was packing stuff up. Since we didn't have too big of a place in Salt Lake City to put our stuff, we were putting it in a storage unit.

     Note: if you need a place to hide a stolen car, storage units come in the convenient size of 10' by 15'.

     Just saying.

     We were whittling our way through all of our junk, which we had a surprising amount of. And for all you grammar buffs out there, I know I'm supposed to end sentences with words like "of." Oh look, I did it again, sort of.

     As do most big items, they required the use of a furniture dolly. This is where my troubles really started.

     At the time, I was stressed and tired, and so my mind was doing things to me.

In reality, the dolly looked like this:

 But in my head, for whatever reason, the dolly looked like this:

     As my dad gave my looks of confusion, I explained my idea as a "redneck Segway." He promptly went inside the house, so that he couldn't be associated with the resulting actions.

     I stood on my chariot, feet on the platform, wheels in front of me. I was thinking something along the lines of goodness, why haven't I thought of this before? My first couple attempts to get things going were unsuccessful. On the third lean-forward, I got results.

     Here's my theory on what happened. Note: some fabrication may have been implemented.
     My momentum got the wheels rolling. My center of gravity combined with the downward slope of the driveway created a miniature black hole, pulling me and the Segway into it, resulting in everything pivoting around the wheels.

     As this was happening, an invisible hipster kid hopped out of his wheel chair and started playing Beethoven's fifth on a white, baby grand piano. This, of course, made my head turn, as I was still falling.

     With the distraction in place, the hipster kid's associates, ninja flying squirwolfs (Google it), pulled my right leg through the bars of the dolly, resulting in this weird leg-metal knot.

     The piano piece completed, and I found myself with my leg tangled up with the dolly, as if the leg and the would-be Segway had been arm wrestling in barbed wire.

     I laughed it off, but the result of the incident had been me scraping off most of the epidermis on the front of the lower half of my shin.

     It was bleeding faintly, but just to make sure I didn't get dirt of contamination-abominations into my mortal flesh wound, I covered it with the biggest band aids in the first aid kit I found.

     The next day, my first period class was US history.

     This particular class is taught by this aging squat man with a comb over. Generally, this image is negative, but I swear, this guy is probably the coolest and funniest teacher. Ever. Period. Don't argue me on this unless you feel like losing.

     Another thing, he doesn't have a problem with making fun of things that people normally wouldn't. The best part? He gets away with it.

     I sit near the front, so when he got up there to start doing his thing, he was scanning the room for attendance, and happened to see that my leg was covered with band aids.

     I don't know how he knew, but he somehow figured I was a boy scout (Shush, don't mock me. It's cool, just like bow ties. And fezes.).

     "I think you need to get your totin' chit taken away from you, Mr. McKinney."
     As if that wasn't bad enough, it gets worse.
     "What are you talking about, sir?"
     "Well, it seems to me, you cut your leg while shaving."

     The teacher had just subjugated my battle scar into a laughing stock for the class room. What was I supposed to do? If I told the truth, that would make the class laugh even harder. So, I rolled with the punches.

     "Insert witty retort here."

     That was probably the worst thing I could've said, but it's what came out.

     It's a good thing I moved, so now I won't have to see any of those people again.