Fell Down The Stairs
by Dan Schwartz
I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.
I approached the stairs. They seemed approachable. I thought I would just throw myself down them, but it takes a lot of effort. There’s something in you that stops yourself from doing that – you reach out, steady yourself, catch yourself before you fall.
There are ways around that. You can close your eyes, but you have to make sure they are really closed, that you don’t open them at the last second. You have to not know what you’re doing. It will always take longer than you think it does. You’re waiting for the stairs to reach you, for just the first stair, but you keep waiting.
Then there’s my favorite way to trick yourself, which is being drunk. And thus, after several drinks (how many is not important), I successfully fell asleep in mid-air and fell down a flight of stairs. I woke up at the bottom.
This is the tricky part – because I was so drunk, I don’t have any memory of what it actually felt like. I remember beginning to fall, and based on the position I was in and the pain I felt when I woke up I knew that I had done it. But I don’t remember what happened during. There’s got to be a delicate balance of drunk, a fine triangulation point that will give me all of the memory and none of the self-preservation instinct. And one day, I will find it.