I was having a brew in Pikes Place Market, watching a No'leans Zydeco band playing a number about life in the swamps and one armed gator guides. Typical Saturday night.
When a one legged pimp accuses me of stiffing his merchandise.
Despite my protestations of innocence, the swarthy merchant decides that we need to take it out into the alley. I oblige him, assuring myself that certainly I can convince him that he has the wrong john.
But he would not accept a rational answer! Before I knew it he produced a blade from under his coat and thrust the sharp business end into my abdomen. I was overcome with shock and crumpled to the rainslicked alley cobblestones. The pimp quickly departed out into the foggy street.
It was only then that I realized I was unharmed. My trusty PRS 700 stashed in my jaxket pocket had deflected my assassins blade! Quickly, but with trembling hands, I thumbed the on button and to my great relief found that, other than some cosmetic damage to the cover, my baby was unharmed.
So you see, my dear GraceKrispy, when you ask:
Quote:
|
From what terrifying situation has your ereader(s) kept you safe ?
|
I can only respond: The taking of my life!
Donn
P.S. The above is mostly true, in that I did, in fact, drink beer on Saturday night. The rest is kind of fuzzy. But I imagine the rest could have happened too.