On the Fence

One morning on the way to school, my mother dropped me off the second the cars stacked up, as she normally and rightly does. This particular morning we were a bit late, and so I was left a fair distance from the school, marked on this helpful and vague map with a red 'x'.

As I did not wish to walk all the way around and follow the cars, and was probably going to be late, I decided to take the short and blocked path. However, once I approached the padlocked gate and it became quite clear I was not flexible enough to crawl beneath, I stood and considered my options as a boy with a longboard walked up from behind me. He dropped his backpack and board over the fence and then climbed over.

So I thought, as I always seem to think when someone does something I can't do, "Hey, I can do that!"

It was a six-foot chain-link fence, and I was a six-foot lanky teenage girl wearing boots. There was no snow, and the boots were not fashionable. They were very ugly, very old black boots I bought with my dad for eleven dollars at a vintage thrift store, with dull, round toes and no design. I wear them on sentimental days because they fit my feet well and no one can see my socks.

I looked along the top of the fence for inconsistencies, and found one on a side facing the oncoming cars on their way into the parking lot. It seemed to be the shortest piece of fencing, so I walked over, tossed my backpack, and proceeded to climb the fence.

The toe of my boot would not fit in the chain-link.

But I had already begun, and it didn't look  like a terribly difficult thing, so I decided I could just wriggle my way over with my arms. This coming from someone who could never scale the rope in elementary school, and got C's all through gym.

The thing about this section of the fence is that all of the people in their cars can see it very well.

And I got stuck.

There are Moments of Revelation in life that occur suddenly and unexpectedly, in which all you are and have ever been is made clear in that moment. It hits like a ton of bricks, stopping you in your tracks. And you look at yourself as if for the first time, objectively, and reflect on your time spent on earth.

This was one of those moments.

Eventually my arms let go and my brain caught up and I walked all the way around the fence, and then through the rock pit, and across the parking lot, and into the school. Fifteen minutes had passed. I checked my phone for the time, and noticed a text from Martensen, which read:

"I thought we weren't allowed to climb the fence?"

which is like Robin Hood asking Friar Tuck if stealing is wrong.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Don't have existential crises while unsuccessfully climbing fences where everyone can see you fail. Follow for more equally helpful life lessons!