This may reflect badly on the sexual preferences of my ancestors, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got donkey DNA in me somewhere.
The stronger the resistance, the harder I dig in my heels. And I’m genetically programmed to respond to dares:
Challenger: “Betcha can’t do that!” Me: “Oh, yeah? Watch me!” This can be a useful trait at times, but I’m trying to overcome it. Those who know me well are starting to catch on.
Hubby: “Betcha won’t clean the bathroom, do the laundry, wash my car, and make me a gourmet meal tonight!” Me: “Oh, yeah? Watch… hey, wait a minute…”
I prefer to think that my life has been enriched by the activities that I never would have tried if I hadn’t been dared to do them.
I never would have ridden to the top of that scree slope on my dirt bike. The view was amazing. ‘Course, the trip down got a little exciting when my brakes faded and gave out from the heat. And yeah, I caused a minor rockslide. But I didn’t actually hurt anything when I had to run into the side of the hill to stop.
I never would have known how many little channels and islands there are in Lake of the Woods if I hadn’t taken off on impulse on a five-day canoe trip with a couple of friends.
In retrospect, it probably would have been better if I’d told somebody I was going. And the trip could have been improved if we hadn’t ended up stranded for two days at our pickup point. And it might have been nice if my ride back hadn’t dumped me ‘way the hell out in the Mission Industrial area of Winnipeg. Without money or a map. On a Sunday. I’m still not sure what I did to piss him off. But hey, you can’t have everything. The canoeing part was great.
Those who know me have given up daring me to eat unusual foods. If it qualifies as food somewhere in the world, I’ve probably already tried it. Or I’m willing to try it. If you dare me.
And don’t bother daring me to eat non-food items. I’ve probably already done that, too. My childhood experiment with the coloured chalk comes vividly (pun intended) to mind.
And let’s not forget jumping off the highest object you can find. Fortunately for my bones, I grew up in the part of Manitoba that’s as flat as piss on a platter. The best I managed was a twelve-foot drop off one of the lifeguard towers at Grand Beach. No, not into the water. That would’ve been smart.
To this day, I’m unable to sneak up a flight of stairs, because it sounds like somebody is enthusiastically popping bubble wrap under both of my kneecaps. But at least I’m not afraid of heights.
What’s best (or worst) thing you ever did on a dare?
22 thoughts on “Doin’ It On A Dare”
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Hi there, I enjoy reading all of your post. I wanted to write
a little comment to support you.
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huh huh huh I like this
Okay, so I’ve determined that you’ve been able to thrive for so long with this “Yes to all dares” lifestyle because so far your perils have been of the “Man v. Nature” variety. If you came to L.A. or NYC, you might not want to accept the dares we’d throw at you out here…wayyyyy more dangerous (and skanky…)
Are you kidding? It’d take a dare just to get me on a plane to L.A. or NYC. 🙂 I passed through the L.A. airport once, and that was scary enough for me.
Oh, that DNA!
That was hilarious! The first two paragraphs grabbed me from the start and I felt myself holding on tight while you plummeted down that hill with no brakes to the twelve foot drop from the lifeguard tower…sheesh! I think I’m going to go lay down a while.
Thanks, Jim! That dirt-biking episode was actually very instructive for me. It was the first time I truly understood the meaning of the phrase “rictus of fear”. 🙂
Frankly, I love the alliteration of um… “piss on a platter,” however, I’m left wondering how that connects with a post about dares. Hmmm…
Love the humor! Consider me subscribed.
Thanks, Ed! I’m thinking dares involving piss and platters could be an interesting spectator sport…
Really? You’ll eat anything but black licorice?
I can’t seem to go more than a month without hearing about the practice of eating live octopus. Here’s an old post by my blogging buddy, Amiable Amiable. This might send you running for some black licorice.
Thanks for the link – I’d seen a video of Korean people eating live octopus, but I’d never seen an American attempt it. It was… instructive. 🙂
To be honest, I’m not sure whether I’d choose the octopus or the licorice if it came right down to it. The licorice won’t fight back, but I know the octopus tastes better (I’m also a fan of sushi and sashimi). Tough choice…
Black licorice, black licorice, black licorice!!!
LOL! You must’ve given you parents their fair share of gray hairs. 😉
Have you tried blood pudding? My Swedish aunts slipped me some — without telling me what it was — when I was visiting them once. It was delicious…until they finally let slip what precisely I was eating.
Yummy! On the subject of repulsive ingredients, I actually enjoy haggis, too. Along with liver, head cheese, chicken feet, and various other anatomical oddities. But “food dares” are really kind of a cheat for me, because I like just about everything except black licorice.
However, I think I *might* draw the line at eating living octopus. Unless somebody dared me…
Maybe I should dare you to read every single one of my posts and comment on it. Just kidding.
But hey I can understand the dare gene, I have it too
Oooh, sounds like a dare. But maybe you should be careful what you wish for? 🙂
Hmm . . as a kid I used to go into haunted houses on Halloween night. Real haunted houses- out in the country, old, abandoned, windows broken out, birds and rats and who knows what else living inside . . great fun! 🙂
Too cool! You would’ve loved the barn on our farm.
It was a little *too* haunted, though, to the extent that one dark night I had to accompany my Dad out there so I could yank the door open while he pointed the shotgun…
Hmmm, maybe I should tell that story sometime.
Hmmm . . perhaps you should! 😉