by Skydiving: Where You Pay to Question Every Life Choice at 14,000 Feet
Skydiving is the only hobby where you pay hundreds of dollars to be pushed out of a perfectly good airplane by a guy named Trevor who once described gravity as “just a strong suggestion.” You go up confident, and somewhere around 8,000 feet, your bravado quietly wets itself.
The pre-jump briefing is five minutes of “don’t die” with a side of “this harness will probably hold.” Your instructor is wearing a GoPro, a smile, and zero fear. You, meanwhile, are dressed like a panicked burrito in a jumpsuit three sizes too snug.
Then it happens. The door opens. The wind screams. Trevor yells, “Ready?” and you respond with a noise only dogs can hear. Suddenly, you’re airborne. The earth is rushing at your face, and all you can think is, “I left my stove on.”
Freefall feels like flying, except terrifying and full of chin flaps. You scream, you laugh, you drool into the stratosphere. Then–BOOM–the parachute opens, and you experience silence, awe, and mild whiplash from divine intervention.
Skydiving is insanity packaged as self-discovery. You land shaky, victorious, and high-fiving strangers like a rockstar who just beat death. And then you say what every jumper says: “Let’s do it again,” while secretly Googling “extreme knitting.”
SOURCE: How To Write Comedy & SpinTaxi.com
