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You know, I'm going to lose all my credibility around here if I tell this story, but what the heck...you guys will get a laugh out of it.
Last Friday night, I had about the worst night of fishing I can remember. I was taking two friends fishing, one of whom had never fished salt water and the other who had only done it a few times. We went to Kent Narrows, my favorite striper hole here in Maryland. When we arrived, we walked on the steep concrete embankment to the outside of the small bridge so we could get away from other fishermen (my friends don't cast too well). Well, five minutes in, I felt something pop loose from my belt and splash in the water. My cell phone had fallen off my waist.
The water was clear and I could see it in about two feet of water. But the wall was too steep to just lean over and grab it, so my friends held my ankles while I leaned down the wall and reached in and fished the damn thing out. I got my fingers around it and realized it was actually ringing underwater!
Frustrated, I told my friends we were going to the other side so we could get some space. Now keep in mind I've walked this wall a hundred times--but that night I had a curse placed on me. I hit a loose patch of gravel and went tumbling down the wall, busting my arm and nearly ending up in the drink in the process. At this point, I was really starting to get mad.
Once we got to the other side, I was half ready to go. Then it hit--the cheeseburger that I had eaten at McDonald's a few minutes earlier had tasted funny, and I was feeling really queasy. At that moment, I was only able to walk a few steps away from my friends and spew like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. At that point, I barked at my friends, "Get in the car! We're leaving." Then I said a few other things that I won't repeat on this board.
You know, they say a bad day of fishing is better than a good day at work. For the first time in my life, I think that's a load of bull
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Last Friday night, I had about the worst night of fishing I can remember. I was taking two friends fishing, one of whom had never fished salt water and the other who had only done it a few times. We went to Kent Narrows, my favorite striper hole here in Maryland. When we arrived, we walked on the steep concrete embankment to the outside of the small bridge so we could get away from other fishermen (my friends don't cast too well). Well, five minutes in, I felt something pop loose from my belt and splash in the water. My cell phone had fallen off my waist.
The water was clear and I could see it in about two feet of water. But the wall was too steep to just lean over and grab it, so my friends held my ankles while I leaned down the wall and reached in and fished the damn thing out. I got my fingers around it and realized it was actually ringing underwater!
Frustrated, I told my friends we were going to the other side so we could get some space. Now keep in mind I've walked this wall a hundred times--but that night I had a curse placed on me. I hit a loose patch of gravel and went tumbling down the wall, busting my arm and nearly ending up in the drink in the process. At this point, I was really starting to get mad.
Once we got to the other side, I was half ready to go. Then it hit--the cheeseburger that I had eaten at McDonald's a few minutes earlier had tasted funny, and I was feeling really queasy. At that moment, I was only able to walk a few steps away from my friends and spew like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. At that point, I barked at my friends, "Get in the car! We're leaving." Then I said a few other things that I won't repeat on this board.
You know, they say a bad day of fishing is better than a good day at work. For the first time in my life, I think that's a load of bull
