Death Becomes Me

I really don't believe I'm in my mid-fifties. In fact, if I didn't remember Howdy Doody, I'd swear I was, oh, I don't know, maybe twenty, twenty-five. It's not that I feel so great physically. It's just that my maturity level skews rather low.
Unless, as some suggest, men just never really grow up. What I'm thinking about today is the silly little games I play with myself. I wouldn't even talk about this, but I'm hoping you'll write me and say, "Hey, Steve, you're not as silly, or as stupid as you think you are." That sort of glowing praise would make my day.
Let me tell you what I do, and you tell me if something is seriously wrong upstairs. One of my little games is my gas-pumping game. When I start to pump gas into my luxuriously appointed 1993 Saturn, I predict the total amount on the pump when the auto shut-off kicks in. I also create this little scenario that if I'm within fifty cents I win, but if I'm off by more than fifty cents, I'll get a mild electric shock. However, if I go over my actual bid, then I'll be shot to death. Somehow, knowing that my life is on the line, makes pumping gas just a little more fun. Yeah, I know what you're thinking...why don't I just go down to Church Hill and pump gas. I'm more of a virtual thrill seeker.
Another game I like to play is also automobile related, and equally as violent. When I'm driving home, I predict the time I'll pull into my driveway. If I don't park and turn the ignition off before the clock on the radio goes a minute beyond that, my car will blow up. It really makes those last few minutes of the drive quite interesting. Admittedly, on more than one occasion I've come close to mowing down a pedestrian, but hey, that's the price you (or they) pay for my entertainment.
Last night I did something really fun. I was heading home to Hampton and decided to take the Jamestown Ferry. It was after dark, and being the adventurous sort of guy I am, I got out of the car and stood at the front of the boat. I pretended I was in an Alfred Hitchcock movie, although I couldn't figure out which one. I wanted to pretend that the sea gulls were going to attack me, but I didn't see any. So I pretended that the oncoming Ferry was carrying spies who wanted to kill me. That was enjoyable, although I don't think the guy in the SUV, parked at the front of the line appreciate me hurling my body into his windshield and then rolling over the roof in order to make a quick escape to my car. Some people have absolutely no imagination.
Take my wife (no, I won't say please). She evidently has no imagination. The other night, at dinner, I told her that the clam chowder was so bad, that we should pretend she was poisoning me. You'd think she'd appreciate having such a fun-loving husband. Nope. Somehow that suggestion didn't sit well with her. I guess she's just not the playful sort. In fact, the next morning, I'm fairly certain I saw her put something suspicious in my hot chocolate. When she wasn't looking, I poured it out on the potted plant. When I get back in town tomorrow, I'm interested in seeing how the plant is doing.
I'll tell you about one more game I used to play. I haven't played it in a few years, but it was fun. When I was lying in bed, I'd pretend I was the star of a TV show about a detective who could really do a good job pretending he was dead. I would lie as still as I could without breathing for as long as I could. I would make up a different episode every time I played. For instance, in one episode, the police had laid my body in a hotel room where there was a jewel thief and his moll. I was there to gather evidence, figuring they wouldn't mind revealing secrets about their plans for a heist in front of a dead body. In retrospect, I guess the show didn't make much sense, however I'm sure with some fine tuning there's at least an oyste in there somewhere, if not a pearl.
I've always loved playing like I was dead. When I was in the emergency room because of heart palpitations recently, and was being totally ignored by the staff, I pretended I was dead. I lay on the gurney with my eyes and mouth propped open. I even added drool for effect. No one noticed. Doctors and nurses walked right past. They'd glance at me and smile and keep on going. Finally I unhooked my monitor terminals thinking the flatline might increase their concern. I guess I must have caught them during a coffee break because no one came to check on me. I was a little irritated, but still enjoyed my game.
So, now, the moment of truth. You tell me. Am I normal? Or am I a little twisted? I really don't know. But, I'd appreciate your feedback. If you are going to tell me how strange I am, at least be gentle, because, I think I'm in the early stages of a heart attack. Oh no, my heart is slowing down dramatically and my breathing is becoming shallow. I'll catch you later.