Amazing Race

So I work for one of the coolest places in the world. The fridge is always stocked with drinks. We’ve got couches to lounge on, a wear whatever you want dress code and everyone razzes each other. It’s a pick on each other in a nice way free-for-all. I love it. Yesterday, we had a company scavenger hunt known as the Amazing Race. It’s not the one on TV, just our rendition of it. Teams scurry around the city of Chicago running from point A to point B based on clues, puzzles, and different activities at each checkpoint. Trash is talked on the regular.  I couldn’t stop shouting “you’re going down BUDDY!” Some of the things we did include running to the beach to build sand castles, climbing a rock wall, and kayaking. That’s right. Kayaking. I don’t understand why but kayaking makes your legs and hips hurt like all hell. Ass too. I think it’s because I was trying to steer with my lower body while powering through the water with my upper body. I drenched my partner because I didn’t understand row control.  Hell, I didn’t even know ‘row control’ was a term that was used. But alas, now I know what it is and know I’m the worst. While in the kayak, I imagined a worse case scenario. In this scenario, we would just leave the dock and a storm would come crashing down upon us. It would send the kayak down the lake at about 100 mph. We’d lose the oars immediately and be stranded out in the middle of nowhere. 5 hours would go by before one us would decide to kill and eat the other. Thankfully that didn’t happen.

There were a plethora of injuries as well. For example, while running to the first checkpoint I twisted my ankle. Bended it real nice. Imagine bending a  stick of string cheese in half. It was nothing like that. While jumping from a tree I skinned my arm. Imagine a pterodactyl flying down and grabbing your arm but you getting away right before he could fly you back to his cave and make you his love buddy. My arm looked like the result of that. For one activity, we had to put together a bunch of torn up pieces of paper which would make a map and give us a location for our next checkpoint. Once we figured it out, we sprinted and  got into a cab and said, “take us to Washington Square Park!” The cab driver slowly turned to us, with no sense of urgency, and said, “how do I get there?” Of course we’d get into that cab. All these things happened in the span of 3 hours. A day later. I woke up feeling like I’ve been hit by a bus. A bus driven by Gary Busey.


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