The Swim That Made Me Quit: A Reindeer-Riddled Comedy
Once upon a time, in the most hilarious of eras, where wisdom and foolishness collided like two clumsy clowns, I found myself embarking on an absurd adventure. You see, I used to toil away in the treacherous realm of Customer Support, a banishment of sorts. But fret not, for I was an Email Executive, engaged in the noble art of passive customer interaction. Oh, the joys of facing individuals who either wished to torment us mercilessly or simply demanded a refund for the absence of a ketchup sachet in their meals. It was a life-or-death situation, my friends, triggered by the omission of a mere condiment. These folks were determined to obtain not only a full refund but also a family feast and a lifetime supply of free food. Quite the demanding lot, I must say.
Alas, my parents were less than thrilled with my chosen profession, leading to constant battles and a perpetual flight-or-flight dilemma. Now, picture this extraordinary day when I woke up to a relentless downpour that transformed the streets into a watery maze. It was as if the heavens decided to bestow upon us an aquatic extravaganza, forcing me to consider hailing an Uber boat for my commute to work. Unfortunately, my parents also woke up to this deluge and, recognizing my lack of swimming skills, forbade me from venturing out. They believed any mishap would leave me helplessly drowning mid-journey. My shift was scheduled to commence at the ungodly hour of 6 AM, and we all know that boats aren't exactly available for hire in the early hours. So, I mustered my courage and, realizing that necessity births innovation, I decided to learn how to swim via a trusty YouTube tutorial. I simply couldn't afford to be tardy. Being late meant forfeiting breaks during my shift and, worse still, missing out on my hard-earned salary. My team lead was practically jumping out of my cell phone to ensure my timely arrival.
After engaging in a fierce, but futile, battle with my determined parents and conceding defeat by a landslide, I found myself already an hour late. Determined to reach my destination, I set out on a daring swim. (I surprisingly did well on my first swim though. This means I’m a quick-learner — CV Updated) No boats were in sight, but lo and behold, I managed to hitch a ride on an auto-rickshaw that mysteriously doubled as a jet ski. Oh, the sheer luck of surviving my first aquatic endeavor!
But hold on, dear reader, for the tale takes a comedic turn. After a mere thirteen seconds on this extraordinary contraption, my vision blurred, and the sound of the jet ski transformed into a chorus of jingling bells. Panic ensued, and I suspected water had invaded my eyes and ears. Frantically, I informed the driver of my predicament in a panicked voice, “I can’t see!” only to be met with his nonchalant laughter and a bewildering statement: "Don’t worry, neither can I."
At that moment, my panic level skyrocketed. I contemplated jumping off the vessel, but before I could make a move, my vision suddenly returned. However, to my astonishment, I found myself seated in a sleigh, not soaring through the skies like Santa Claus, but still floating upon the water. Now this gave me some relief that the sleigh decided not to fly but float, because the tutorials on YouTube do not encompass the art of sleigh navigation.
This magical vessel glided through the water at Bugatti Chiron-like speeds, reaching a mind-boggling 261 miles per hour. I, dressed like a lost Alice in a desolate wasteland, could only watch in awe as the sleigh approached a colossal blue hole, causing my already heightened fear of deep water to reach its zenith. The jingle of reindeer bells still echoed in my ears, and how I longed for Santa to materialize and control his mischievous reindeer. Mental preparations for an imminent watery demise began, and I regretted not heeding my parents' warnings. Ah, what a classic case of crying over spilled milk!
Just as I resigned myself to my soggy fate, chanting every prayer known to humankind, a reindeer turned its head and winked at me, a terrifying grin adorning its face. I felt harassed by this mischievous creature. Suddenly, the sleigh filled with water, extinguishing the jingle of bells and enveloping me in an eerie silence. Then, a soft voice pierced the stillness: "Are you going to get off or what?"
And just like that, dear reader, I found myself back in the auto-rickshaw, parked at the gate of my office, with the driver eyeing me suspiciously, as if unsure whether I intended to rob him or be robbed myself. I paid him his fare, ventured inside, and plopped onto my chair, desperately trying to make sense of this unreal ordeal of events I just witnessed.
As I logged onto my computer, a tsunami of anxiety washed over me. Trembling with the aftershocks of my sleigh ride, I realized it was a sign—an unmistakable indication that I should bid farewell to this job. After all, parents are never wrong. Ignoring their wisdom might lead me to further uninvited escapades, adventures from which I may not emerge unscathed. Seeing the drenched, defeated expression on my face, my compassionate teammates suggested I return home, and I eagerly said Yes!
With a semblance of sanity intact, I secured a ride back home, and to my surprise, the journey was smoother than a buttered slide. It felt as though I was gliding through the air, free from any hassle or hindrance. And thus, my friends, that day became the last day of my employment. I still miss the winking reindeer and the jingling bells, but oh, the joy of no longer needing to swim.
(P.S. I had written this tall tale quite a while ago and at that time I had no intensions of sharing it because I was too skeptical to do so, as it’s the first ever tall tale I’ve ever written (probably last as well). But here I am again. I refined it today after finding this tale on my drafts, and I thought why not share with you all and I hope you’ll find it amusing to some extent. Thank you for reading!)
