Sunday, 20 November 2011

Snacks Between Meals: Mea Maxima Culpa

Apparently I have been the victim of implanted memories (maybe I’m actually some sort of sleeper agent awaiting activation…that would explain my righteous ninja skills!) when it comes to my recollection of the “Daina Incident”.  According to most of the members of my family, we did forget my sister at a truck stop, but the mistake was realized within minutes and she didn’t get to hitch a ride with Smokey nor the Bandit.  So, did I just go overboard  embellishing my blog?  Not really.  My research has confirmed this is a true story; it just didn’t happen to my sister.  

My father-in-law has a well-worn repertoire of tales he likes to keep in heavy rotation, and one of them involves some family friends who had an experience that was eerily similar to Daina’s.  The main difference is theirs ended with the eighteen-wheel taxi service, and over time I came to believe it had happened to my family.  Weird, eh?  What’s next, I’m going to find out that I’m not actually tall and athletic?

Naturally, you must be asking: “Darin, why then haven’t you removed the story from you blog?”  Well, it’s still a true story, and it’s still a great story, and I have merely changed the names to…um… protect the innocent.  

Yeah, that’s it.

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