Life is all about experiencing and trying new things. The outcome could either have people wanting to try it again or never again. These people have their own stories on things they would do again and others might agree. Content has been edited for clarity purposes.
“I caused a few thousand dollars of damage to our office break room/conference room in my mid-20s. I had a cold and tried to heat water for tea in the microwave in a metal and plastic thermos. Immediately, I turned around and walked back to my desk for a minute.
I came back and flames were licking the ceiling. Several coworkers were standing around in shock. I was the only one in the office who knew how to work a fire extinguisher so I immediately put the fire out.
The word ‘hero’ gets thrown around a lot but yeah, I guess I am a hero.”
“Two summers ago, during our annual vacation to the Southern Outer Banks of North Carolina, my father-in-law, son, and I decided to try off-shore fishing. For a non-refundable $65 per ticket, we boarded the Carolina Princess shortly after sunrise for four hours of fishing about 20–30 miles off shore. The boat had the poles, bait, helpers, and even a little kitchen. We only needed ourselves. There were about 25 other fishers with us.
For the first 20 minutes of the trip, I was fine. I was excited to spend some quality time fishing with my son. Neither of us had ever gone boat fishing before. Then the boat went through the inlet (the space between the barrier islands) and we were in open water. That’s when the waves got big, and my son and I joined a handful of other people with non-refundable tickets who spent the remaining three-plus hours of the trip, in the cabin of the boat, either throwing up or lying down, trying not to throw up again.
It didn’t help that there were storms that day, which kicked up the waves and added to the general feeling of dread we were experiencing. So now I know I get sea sick, but I just wish I could have found that out a cheaper way. In a moment of clarity between throwing up and regretting my life choices in the cabin, I recorded a little video for my wife. It was me and my son, both being seasick, with me telling my wife to remind me of this next year, in case I say I want to try it again.
Never again. I’ll do my fishing from the shore, the way I’ve always done it.
My father-in-law had a blast, though. He caught about a dozen fish, including a small shark. The shipmates filleted the shark for us back on the shore, and we ate it for dinner that night.”
Boy Scout Trip
“One time, I came along on my son’s Boy Scout trip to caves in Tennessee. The basic Boy Scout cave tour was a fun trip to participate in. After the basic tour was completed, they offered a more challenging ‘wild tour’ for interested Boy Scouts and parents.
For parents, they had a test you had to pass to participate. The test was fitting through a box that represented the smallest area of the tour. Some fathers didn’t fit and so could not participate, but I was able to wiggle through. In retrospect, I made a couple of mistakes. The first was not taking into account that the box was smooth-sided wood, not rough rock covered by dirt. The second was not realizing that the shortness of the box allowed me to bend my knees and push with the full force of my legs. The third was I put on a sweatshirt just prior to the tour. I did not wear the sweatshirt during the box test.
We started the wild tour and of course, all the little kids could slip easily through all the crawl spaces. And with a little effort, I squeezed through as well, until it came to the squeeze they had tested for. The approach to this required you to go headfirst down a hole for several feet where the tunnel turned 90 degrees and then you slid on your back another six feet or so, all the while the tunnel got tighter and tighter until it was pressing your arms along your sides and pushing on your chest.
At this point, I realized the sweatshirt was a problem. So I thought I could squeeze back out and take it off, but it started to bunch up so the only direction was forward. The rough rock and dirt made forward motion difficult, and I could not get a good purchase with my feet to push forward.
Eventually, it appeared I was stuck. This was surprisingly unexpected, and I thought of my position; I was stuck flat on my back with my arms pinned to my sides with perhaps a mile of the mountain on top of me. I have never had a panic attack, but I could definitely feel something like that was coming on.
I immediately resolved to not think about my situation. I pushed all thoughts out of my mind and only thought that if I lifted my right shoulder slightly, I could move it forward and gain some purchase to pull myself forward a small amount. If I then repeated the process with my left shoulder, I could do the same. Slowly I inched forward. My only concern then was that the tunnel didn’t get any smaller. I was right at the limit of what I could get through.
I went forward shoulder by shoulder for maybe 15 feet and then I felt the tunnel starting to broaden. Finally, it opened and I could start crawling up into the next chamber. When I finally got on my feet, I suddenly couldn’t breathe and was gasping for breath. The sweat ran off my head and down my back and chest like someone had poured a bucket of water over my head. The little kids I’d been holding up all came crawling out of the tunnel laughing and chattering and ran on down the cave ahead of me. It took me several minutes to pull myself together and catch up.
I will never take another ‘wild tour’ again and have no desire to go spelunking. I now even have a slight phobia of small spaces. Elevators don’t bother me, but I simply won’t crawl into something small again.”
“It was a random night about three years ago around 10 pm. My brother and I were cleaning the CPU (central processing unit) with petrol. After cleaning it, we had some left in the bowl.
My brother asked, ‘What now?’
I don’t know where this evil idea came from, but I said, ‘Let’s ignite it.’
After a little argument, he eventually agreed. We decided to experiment in the bathroom. I, being an enthusiast kept the bowl of petrol on the toilet seat and got a matchbox. I lighted the matchstick, counted down, ‘three, two, one,’ and then I threw it into the bowl.
It went, ‘BOOM!’
It was a fire bigger than we expected that came with dark black smoke. In that bathroom, we hadn’t put an exhaust fan in yet because of the good natural air ventilation. So after a minute, it was completely filled with smoke. We thought the fire was over. Five minutes passed, the fire was still going with the same passion. My brother tried throwing some water into the bowl, but with petrol, it can’t be extinguished by water. So it eventually spilled out on the floor, creating another fire.
Then of a sudden, my brother noticed our father coming up for a bath. I suddenly went into the bathroom and closed the door. My father smelled something was burning, but my brother convinced him that someone had fired up garbage outside.
My father then knocked on the bathroom door and said, ‘How much time will you take?’
I said, ‘I don’t know what I ate today. It caused stomach pain. It will take some time. Wait.’
About 10 minutes passed, and the fire was slowing down. However, the smoke was still in the bathroom. I told my brother to give me a towel. I started waving the towel in the bathroom to exhaust the smoke and cleaning the black stains off the toilet seat and floor.
The mission was accomplished, but this is on my list of ‘Things I have tried, but never do again.'”
Hit And Run
“When I was about 12, I lost control of my bike and crashed into the door of a parked car and left a sizeable dent. Thinking I had not been seen, I jumped back on my bike, hurried to my home around the corner, stashed my bike out of sight in the garage, and hid inside.
That night the doctor who owned the car came to our house and asked to see my father and me. When he recounted the event, told to him by someone who had seen me hit the car, I confessed and apologized and my father paid the damages. The doctor was a gentleman about this. He said it was a little thing and that there were no hard feelings, but all three of us knew I had done wrong and my character was not what it should be.
I will never forget the disappointment in my father’s eyes when he learned what I had done. I felt ashamed, not so much that I had lost control of my bike (that can happen to any child) but because I had acted like a coward and had not knocked on the door of the doctor’s house after I had hit his car and made amends for what I had done. I felt ashamed.
At that moment I learned a valuable life lesson. I resolved to be honest and trustworthy in all I did, seen and unseen. I have carried this lesson through life and when I have felt the urge to be deceitful or dishonest I have remembered this event and my commitment to never act that way again. So that little event with larger implications for who I am and how I act is something I will never do again.”
A Nudist Resort
“My husband, whom I love dearly, had been pestering me for a special treat for his birthday one year, which was to visit a nudist resort. Something that I just couldn’t see myself doing, but I told him I would think about it.
A few years later, the facility he worked at just had an awful six months or so of turmoil. As it was being sorted out, they asked him to visit another facility in Orlando, Florida to help with a project down there. About three weeks before, he arranged for a few extra days of vacation, and for me to go along for a long weekend before he had to get to the facility down there. He wrote me a letter, asking again if we could consider a visit to a nudist resort, as there are several in the central Florida area.
I hemmed and hawed. This man had been through a rough patch at work and deserved a break. He was also taking me for at least two days to Disneyworld, a place I adored, on this trip. Finally, after we had got on the plane and were on our way, I allowed that I was at least thinking about it (going to a nudist resort) but that we had to at least talk about it. The next morning after a long discussion, and me actually speaking to a woman at the resort in making our reservations for a day visit, I gave my cautious agreement to do so. We were going there the next day.
I kind of just put it out of my mind that whole day. We realized that we needed some stuff to do so, towels, lots of sunscreens, and some other stuff. We picked that up and the next morning, we drove to the resort. It was a very quiet car ride.
After we got through the gate, I began to notice people, doing very ordinary things at their campers and such, except that they didn’t have any clothes on. I begged off that I needed to undress in private, and went into a ladies’ restroom. I came out, with a towel wrapped around my waist, while my husband was standing outside with no clothes or towel on. All around us were dozens of people, all ages, sizes, genders, almost all weren’t wearing any clothes. I tried not to look.
We decided to go down by a lake at the resort where it was less crowded, to try to get used to this experience. We found some sun recliners and spread our towels, and tried to relax. My husband did immediately, but I, not so much. People would stroll by, say hello, and pass on. I kept my towel wrapped around me.
Finally, after about an hour, I decided to roll over on my tummy, having my butt uncovered for the first time since we arrived. Then something just hit me after about 15 minutes in this position, and I sat up. I told him very softly that I just could not do this any longer. I needed to get dressed and leave. No one aside from him, my doctor, and my mother had seen me like this before, not since I was a baby. Here there were complete strangers looking at me. I just couldn’t stand it any longer.
He sat and thought for a moment. This dear man, whom I loved and still do, was conflicted.
‘On one condition,’ he said.
I asked, ‘What?’
He replied, ‘That we at least walk around to pool area just once.’
He had figured out that this was the only opportunity that he would ever have to have this experience, at least with me. I thought for a minute and agreed. Then he floored me. I had to leave my towel in the car. I reluctantly agreed. So we walked back to the car and dropped off our towels, and such.
He took my hand and we walked past the restrooms and outdoor showers, past the relaxation pool, past a snack bar area, around the large community pool. I never saw that many clothless people at one time and I’m a nurse. I am convinced that I was at least several shades of red from embarrassment. We circled back to the car, got our things, got dressed, quite incongruously, outside by the car, and left.
We talked later that evening and we both agreed on one thing. I was not a nudist, and never could be.”
“On my visit to Los Angeles, I went to the Universal Studios. I went with my cousins and we all thought the Revenge of the Mummy would be a normal ride because when we saw it from outside, we didn’t see any roller coaster tracks or anything.
So we went inside and stood in the line. There were spooky noises playing in the background while everyone was standing in the line. Other than that, everything was normal. I was sitting in the front seat of the ride when suddenly it became dark and the ride stopped. A mummy’s face was now displaying on the screen.
We were looking at that mummy’s face and listening to what it was saying. While our whole concentration was on the screen, the ride suddenly went with a speed of around 45 miles per hour. My voice was caught in my throat because I was so engrossed in that video. Again the ride stopped in front of a wall and a door. I didn’t know what it was because it was too dark, so I thought that this was the end of the ride. In actuality, the makers of this ride wanted to confirm the people sitting on the ride would be scared to death. We were all waiting for the door to open and the ride to end, but boy we were wrong.
The ride started going backward with the same 45 miles per hour speed back to where the ride had started. The worst part was that while standing in the line, there was a notice board stating the ‘dos and don’ts’ and it was written to not carry liquid items. I had a bottle of sprite in the bag. A little less than half the bottle was left so I offered my cousins but no one wanted it, so I drank the whole bottle.
After getting off the ride, I started throwing up.”
“One Of The Most Difficult Terrains In The Area”
“Right after college, I wanted to be all adventurous and fly like a bloody eagle. So I did. Last year, I was on a road trip in the western ghats (Karnataka, India) with my cousin and we decided to trek one of the most difficult terrains in the locality.
This place ain’t so popular amongst the tourists, so the summit is almost impossible to reach. The localities call it Mount Kolikomala and it is considered dangerous during the rainy season. My parents were totally against the idea of even planning the trek. But my pumped-up testosterone wanted adrenaline company.
It was a bright day, so we decided to go ahead with the nine-kilometer trek uphill through the thick forest with just one little knife. We had planned to return by four in the evening, so I did not inform my parents. Big mistake.
The starting was great. I felt like Bear Grylls and I was recording every moment. Then seven kilometers down, the slope was turning from 30 degrees to 60 degrees. I was crawling now gasping for breath. Dark clouds were everywhere and it started raining cats and dogs all of a sudden. I had an umbrella which did not help at all. We were drenched completely. To make things worst, I felt something crawling near my foot. It was a freakin six-foot black snake. I was sure I wasn’t gonna return home.
Luckily, it didn’t bother me as I chose not to move. Next hurdle, I could see blood oozing out of my knees. I thought, ‘What the heck?!’
I soon realized it was coming from leeches. Blood-sucking leeches were on my knees. I had to pluck each one of them to get rid of them and then I moved ahead. I was regretting my decision. And things weren’t getting better.
We moved ahead as the leeches were trying to crawl onto our shoes. Then we spotted elephant turds. Fresh ones. I was scared now. I didn’t want to die. My cousin was a brave heart from the village, so he gave me some hope. But the rain was getting worse. I didn’t have a choice whether to go uphill or run back down. So we both climbed a huge tree and sat there looking at each other, regretting every decision of our lifetime. We didn’t have any phone signal or any contact with the outer world. Should’ve listened to my parents.
Two hours later, the sky was bright again. At that point, I wanted to turn back home really bad.
Instead, my cousin said, ‘It ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you get hit and still keep moving forward.’
I slapped him hard for this untimely joke. He didn’t listen. He asked me to go back alone, which I wouldn’t do. So we were back on track again.
Another two hours later, we were on the so-called impossible-to-reach summit. I couldn’t believe it. This had to be the biggest achievement of my life. It looked like green heaven; a grassland, a beautiful little pond, and wild buffaloes. We hid behind a tree until they were gone, but ultimately I was at peace.
Then I heard a ‘ding ding.’ I got a notification on my phone that read, ‘Airtel welcomes you to Kerala.’
All the way from Karnataka to Kerala and that was one heck of a time we had. We returned home by six in the evening, with a broken finger, painful butt, blood-soaked socks, and very muddy clothes. Other than that, I had a bunch of memories which I’ll never forget for a lifetime. But I would never go back. I want to live and that place was a bloody death trap.”
“Back in 2014, my parents and I went to our village. And if you have ever gone to a village, you will get to hear a lot of folklore and urban legend there. I heard the same. Apparently, a house next to ours had a family of mother-in-law, wife, and husband. The husband worked in the town, so, the mother-in-law and the wife stayed together. In an accident, the husband died. Devastated, they both mourned him for days, when suddenly, schizophrenia strikes the mother.
She started hallucinating that her son was saying, ‘She has killed me, mother. She has. You have to take revenge.’
It continued for days, and there were certain times when she even poisoned her food. But the wife, somehow, managed to survive.
One day, at mid of the night, the mother put kerosene all over the wife’s body and lit her into flames. She started running all over the house and eventually the whole place caught on fire. Both died in that incident, however, a mirror didn’t burn up. The village people say that the souls of the two took shelter there, and thus it didn’t burn up.
Now, me being an over-smart chap, made my mind that I would enter the burnt house and look at the mirror, no matter what happens. I went there with my bike and entered the burnt room.
The door squeaked.
I could see nothing but ashes. Then I saw the mirror, standing clear as a lake. I started moving towards it. As I went near, I smelled something burning. I looked down and saw my shirt was burning and I felt someone was pulling me towards the mirror.
I ran out of there, reached for my bike, and drove it as fast as I could on those muddy roads. I looked beside me, and a figurine, wearing a white saree, was just beside me when I stopped. I fell down and became unconscious.
I opened my eyes and saw another villager doing all his mantras on me. My mother found out and slapped me. She warned to never ever go there. And I won’t.”
“I was in my late 20s and went with a group of 22 people from work to skydive. I was pumped by the idea; here’s an opportunity to face fear head-on, work through it and overcome it. I could use the collective energy, excitement, and distraction that came with being a part of a group.
We drove up from Ventura, California to the skydiving location in Paso Robles, California on a Friday and stayed the night in a hanger as a part of the package we purchased. At this point, I was still pumped and showing little signs of fear.
We got up Saturday morning and went through all of the required training for a tandem skydive. We got fitted for our jumpsuits, watched training videos, received lectures and instruction from our jump masters, packed chutes, and signed waivers.
They had two planes that each held two skydivers. So, a total of four people in each wave. It took approximately 25 minutes to reach 11,500 feet, and another 15 minutes for the plane to return. So, once an hour, waves would head out. I was in wave three. After the first wave went out, the nerves started to set in, but the power of the collective group was still energizing. After the second wave went out, I grabbed the bottle of Mylanta that I packed, ducked in between two parked cars, and chugged about a third of the bottle.
When the first group came back, everyone started asking how it went. I’ll never forget the response of this petite young girl saying, ‘I really liked the plane ride.’
I thought to myself, ‘Liked the plane ride? What about jumping out?’
She went on to say, ‘I liked the plane ride because it was my first time on a plane.’
At this point, the ego of a young man in his late 20s was now on the line. Given the fact that the girl had never even been on a plane before and then jumped out would make it very difficult for me to justify not doing this. The power of the collective group to keep my fears in check was non-existent. Wave three was up, and we walked out onto the runway and into the plane. The plane was a crop-duster at best. Just big enough for the four of us and the pilot. It was loud and cold.
I was lucky enough to go up with the ‘crazy guy’ from work. He was laughing and joking all the way up. I, on the other hand, was silent. All the fear and reality of what I was about to do was almost paralyzing. Periodically, my jumpmaster would ask if I was all right, and I’d give him a nod of reassurance. Of course, I was lying 100 percent.
We reach 11,500 feet and the plane slowed down. They opened the door, and let my co-worker go first. My jumpmaster cinched up our gear together, and I crawled over to the door. I sat at the door with my legs and feet dangling out of the plane. My palms were sweating. I could feel my heartbeat pounding. I was white as a ghost.
To calm me down, the jumpmaster said, ‘I am very good at what I do. I’m not dying today and neither are you. Take in every second of this, and flare when I tell you to.’
Once I hit the air, the overwhelming rush of the fall wiped out every ounce of fear, and for 45–50 seconds I experienced the incredible views and the air that felt like it was going at 120 miles per hour.
We pulled the cord at 5,000 feet and the ride down was amazing.
I hit the ground, and my boss was recording me on video. My eyes were as wide as they could be physically. I was jumping up and down with excitement; I pulled this off.
With the camera directed towards me, he asked, ‘How was it?’
‘Absolutely nuts!’ I said with a huge grin on my face.
He followed with, ‘Would you ever do it again?’
And to that, I said, ‘Heck No!'”