After suffering a serious knee injury, I numbed the pain through the wonders of legal narcotics. Then the doctor upgraded my drugs to a more potent dosage because my eyes kept rolling back in my head as I bit through broom handles. This new potent medication had the power to turn me into a fierce fighter pilot.
Soon after gulping the pills, I magically appeared at the controls of an F-14A Tomcat jet careening into the Danger Zone as Kenny Loggins sang in the background. It was quite the rush. After performing several death-defying maneuvers, nose-bleed-causing spirals, and winning a dog fight with several Russian MiGs, I sent a sassy radio message to Top Gun Headquarters:
“Tower, this is Ambrose requesting permission for a flyby.”
The answer was succinct.
“Dammit, Ambrose, get down off the counter.”
The voice sounded like Studley but I knew it couldn’t be him because I was flying at Mach 2 – almost 1,550 miles per hour – twice the speed of sound. And he was back home making dinner because I was too helpless to assist. Unless, of course, I became a fierce fighter pilot. Then I had a good excuse to heed the call of duty because I felt the need for speed.
“Ambrose, get down!” The voice was more persistent so I put the jet on cruise control and lifted the visor on my helmet. I saw the blurry image of Studley helping me sit down in my recliner. Suddenly the jet vaporized in a puff of steam.
“Where did you go this time?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“Just playing with the boys,” I answered. I heard Kenny Loggins again but I think he had moved to the back yard.
Studley sat down beside me and shook his head.
“I made spicy meatballs for dinner,” he said.
“Great balls of fire,” I sang as I pounded on an imaginary piano. Then, sensing his annoyance, I broke into a dramatic and romantic rendition of “Take my Breath Away.”
At this point, he muttered about buying a motorcycle so he could ride away beside a distant ocean. So I searched for the pill bottle because I wasn’t finished with the volleyball game.
The entertainment you provide has me not only in tears but feeling grateful and transported. Bravo Elaine, through your pain you generously deliver your gifts.
I’ve only had the experience of narcotics once, it left me with extreme head spins, completely unable to navigate space travel. I’m still chuckling over your “get off the counter” comment tho.
Sorry about the knee. Congrats on the bonus adventure.
Elaine,
Such a funny piece. I just had knee surgery and all my pain meds did for me was make me sleep! Three days later, I woke up, the house was a mess, the sink loaded with dirty dishes and I was limping. Oh, well. Hope you’re 100 percent better real soon.