I Wrecked My Knee, and I’m In Need Of A Magnificent Story
A magnificent story is necessary at a time like this.
I wrecked my knee.
On my vacation.
I’m trying out all kinds of stories to see which one resonates.
The one that gets the best reaction is this:
Bob gave me a brake check.
I was on the back of his motorcycle.
He was going really, really, really fast.
Suddenly, he hit the brakes.
I flew off the back of the bike.
And destroyed my knee.
“Really?” people gasp, shocked that Bob would do such a thing.
“No,” I respond, “none of it is true.”
The brake-check story is far more entertaining than the truth.
The truth is just a standard, boring, slip and fall injury.
I’ve always felt that any major injury deserves a magnificent story.
My left knee deserves that great story.
Even if it does throw poor Bob under the bus.
Or the motorcycle.
The bottom line is that I wrecked my knee.
And I’m in need of a magnificent story.