Whose Bar Story?

My wife and I live near an airport and today we saw a jet coming toward us after having just taken off, and I ran another one of my apparently bizarre insights past my wife saying:

“Whenever I see a plan coming towards me, either on landing or take off, I immediately imagine a red-dotted line in front of the oncoming craft’s path. The line makes clear when the plane becomes my bar story. For if the plane starts coming down before that red line, it is I who ends up coming a bar story for my friends”.

A “bar story”, by the way, is usually defined as a story people tell to impress their listeners. But I define “bar story” as an exaggerated, or bizarre selfish story told at a bar or dinner party that the speaker falsely assumes justifies ending an otherwise normal-enough long lull in conversation.

Let me apologize to any reader who has lost friends or family in such a case. But with that out of the way, let me ask readers to share any failed bar stories they’ve told or imagined telling. Oh yes, and my wife just shook her head on hearing that one.


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