A time traveler shows up. He makes you an offer you can’t refuse. You must go back in time a minimum of 100 years, to a place on Earth of your choosing, and stay there. Once there, you’ll speak the local language fluently.You get to take a rucksack-sized bag filled with whatever you choose (other than a time travel device). When/where do you go and what do you take?
I have had a loaded gun pointed at me.
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I think I'd go back to just before the Industrial Revolution, England. I'd take my grandfather, an ingenious character, one that would come in handy when it came to figuring stuff out.
I'd take my camera and a few spare batteries, pocket knife (goes everywhere) and a few books about engineering, some blueprints of machines and stuff. I'd take a heap of silver and gold too.
Whilst there my grandfather and I would invent some stuff, the car or some such thing, Velcro maybe and then just have a holiday. When we got back to nowadays all would be well. Oh, I'd probably initiate a few good financial investments as well.
The loaded gun story...Maybe you'll tell it someday. Not too many people can say that.
!ENGAGE 25
Your grandfather fits in a rucksack?
It was due to my stupidity. Years ago I lived in the lower unit of a duplex. In retrospect the place was a firetrap, I should never have moved in. There was an outer door leading to a small common area that had stairs going to the upstairs unit and access to the front door of my unit which had no back door. And you could not exit through the interior front door without using a key. What could possibly go wrong?
Eventually, the front lock became less and less reliable. I called the landlord, left several messages on his answering machine, got no reply. One day when I got home from work, I could not get the interior door open. So I went around the side of the building and climbed in through the living room window.
A few minutes later the doorbell rang. Since I couldn’t get to the front door, I opened the window to yell out at whoever was ringing the bell.
”Hands up!” said the cop who was pointing the 9mm at me. Well, duh, some concerned citizen had seen me climb in a window and called the constabulary.
I explained my predicament and when asked to provide proof of residence dropped my right hand. After a few inches of quick movement, my subconscious screamed at me. That might be the last stupid thing you ever do! I stopped and said to the cop that I was going to very slowly reach for my wallet. Gave it to him and put my hands back up while his partner went to their vehicle to check on whether I had any outstanding warrants.
They then released me with the advice that “You might want to fix that lock.”
I disassembled it and oiled the pieces before reassembling them. The landlord finally got back to me about two weeks later.
He was a Smurf.
A close brush with the law. Lucky you had the presence of mind to think logically huh? Could have ended different.
ENGAGEtokens.