Memory Monday: Reshaping the Land

This is kind of a mean memory, but Brendan and Cody stirred it up this past weekend. I told them this story and decided I HAD to share it with all of you.

I'm changing names to protect the innocent and not-so-innocent.

This one is from high school, because I don't believe in chronological order. :-P (Kidding, I believe in it, I just don't practice it!)

The backstory here is this: there was a kid in my high school. Enormous. To date, the largest person I have ever seen. He must have been over six feet tall, and as wide as he was tall. We will call him "Leo Lyins". Leo's a hot name, so he's redeeming himself ever so slightly by being called that. :-P
Anyways, he was a giant. A big, round, giant whale. Like, now that I'm more mature, I feel bad for him because of his incredible obesity and his blot-out-the-sun quality. He had to go sideways (and ducking) through doors. I don't know how he sat in desks, and I suspect he didn't. And, immature and mean as we were, we frequently joked that if he fell he would dent the ground. I feel comfortable telling this story because I am positive that no one, no one, who reads this could possibly be that large. And, "Leo", if you read this (which first of all, you're totally straight and we never spoke so why?), I'm sorry that I'm so amused at your expense. I freely admit to being a bad bad person.

So, one day, I am sitting in class minding my own business. Suddenly, and from nowhere, there's this seismic SHAKE. Now, there had recently been some kind of earthquake in the Atlantic that we had been able to feel in some parts of good ol' Rhode Island. We assumed it was some kind of tectonic shock or whatever, left over from that.

So, about fifteen minutes later, class lets out. I go out in the hallway and a friend of mine calls me over in the hallway. He'd been in the classroom just across the hall. "You will never believe what just happened," he tells me, trying to hold in his laughter.
"Okay, tell me," I reply.
"Leo fell in class...and there's a dent in the floor!"
Like the somewhat reasonable person I can sometimes be, I assumed he was kidding. No way would that really happen. But I had to get to class, so I didn't investigate. Yet.

At the end of the day I headed into that classroom and sure as the sun rises, there was a large dent in the floor.

I have no way to know if that truly came from Leo, but I will always remember that. Even though my illness will forever keep me from getting fat -- and I won't even be "average" til age slows my metabolism -- it is because of this that I consider diet and excercise to be vital. I don't always (i.e. rarely) eat healthy, and my excercise tends to be my work and walking everywhere but the idea is there: I can never be that. I do not want to dent the floor.