If you’re not into extreme sports, there isn’t a much to do in Interlaken, Switzerland besides enjoying the mountainous vista and being served crappy American beers at Hooters by waitresses who simply aren’t as qualified to be working as Hooters as they should be. Yes, somewhere among the stores selling watches, chocolate and army knives, there’s a Hooters. I didn’t travel halfway across the world to go to Hooters…did I?
I’ve talked about skydiving for a long time, but like many people, I talked and that’s it. In order to pick Interlaken out of the cheesy fondue like depths of mediocrity it seemed like a fine opportunity to go against all human survival instincts and hurl myself from an aircraft into the sky. The problem, and it was a big one, was we were on the last of our two days in Interlaken and the woman at the hostel, whom after conferring with the skydiving peeps, told us that, because of the fog, skydiving would not be happening on that day. Fuck. The next day’s forecast was even worse. So what could we do? We went to the hostel bar where we met a fine American duo who bought us some beers. Let’s get drunk we said, what else is there to do?
That’s when the sun peeked between the clouds.
So, in a last ditch effort, my better half inquired about skydiving again. This time, we were in luck, as long as we left right away, because this miraculous weather was not going to last. An hour later, while paling at visions of splatting like a Pizza Pop on the ground, 14,000 feet below, I jumped from a helicopter.
My rippling face, along with the rest of the jump, can be seen in the video below.
P.S. The straps make my man boobs look gigantic. It’s hilarious…and bizarrely erotic.