The Everyday Worst Case Scenario Handbook
Anyway, I was given the Piven and Borgenicht book to base my design on and have it here in my hand right now. With this guide, anyone can learn how to escape from quicksand, break into a car and hot-wire it, fend off a shark, wrestle an alligator, take a punch, jump from a building into a Dumpster, leap from a moving car, perform a tracheotomy, deliver a baby in a taxicab, land a plane, survive if your parachute fails to open, etc., etc.
To give you one example, here’s how the authors say you should execute a fast 180 degree turn in your car:
“1. While in drive, or a forward gear, accelerate to a moderate rate of speed (anything faster than forty-five miles per hour risks flipping the car).
“2. Slip the car into neutral to prevent the front wheels from spinning.
“3. Take your foot off the gas and turn the wheel ninety degrees (a quarter turn) while pulling hard on the emergency brake.
“4. As the rear swings around, return the wheel to its original position and put the car back into drive.
“5. Step on the gas to start moving in the direction from which you came.”
This and the other skills listed in the book are valuable to be sure, but how often in our lives (if at all) will we ever need them? That’s why I think these same two authors should write another book called The Everyday Worst Case Scenario Handbook that covers situations you and I are more likely to run into. For instance, I think we all would welcome advice in cases where you, say, get caught: in a bathroom stall without toilet paper; picking your nose in public; accidentally farting in an elevator; cheating on your spouse; napping on the job; locked outside of your house or apartment naked; mistaking a regular party for a costume party; asking a woman when her baby is due when she isn’t even pregnant; sneezing a messy sneeze with no Kleenex in sight; using your boss’s tie as a napkin while in a drunken stupor; ogling a woman with her jealous husband/boyfriend standing right next to you; or waking up in a jail cell paired with an amorous cellmate nicknamed “Foot Long.”
I have heard that the best thing you can do when caught napping on the job is to straighten up with your eyes still closed and solemnly say, “amen.” For the nose-picking, I suppose the Seinfeld Defense, claiming it was a “rub,” not a “pick,” might be your best option. And for the fart in the elevator scenario, I have a quick story: one time I boarded an elevator just as the only occupant in it left. Upon entering, my sense of smell was immediately pummeled by the unmistakable odor of human-generated methane — obviously the last passenger experienced a profound and regrettable lapse in discretion. As luck would have it, I only traveled two floors up when the elevator stopped to pick up several more passengers. As I was the only one in the cab when they entered, what could I say? We all know the old “he who smelt it, dealt it” rule. A story of how, “yes, I acknowledge the poo poo smell, but it wasn’t me, honest,” would surely be damning. So I think, whether innocent or not, the only thing to be done in that situation is try not to blush.
How would you handle any of the predicaments listed above? Or do you have others you’d care to add?