A Life Worth Living

Along Interstate 287, there is a bridge named, “Tapanzee Bridge” connecting Tarrytown and Nyack, New York. As you enter the bridge, and possibly every major bridge in the country, there is a sign on the side of the road that says “A Life Is Worth Living” with a number to a Suicide Prevention Hotline. Below is a feasible conversation between a caller and a Suicide Prevention Hotline operator.

Operator: “Good afternoon, you have reached the Suicide Prevention Hotline. This is Cindy speaking. Can you please hold? Thank you.”

Caller: “…”

Operator: “Thank you for calling. How may I assist you today?”

Caller: “Hello Cindy. Thank you for taking my call. I haven’t gotten a chance to write a letter so I would like to give you my reason for the decision to come to this bridge. It started the day I was born. My parents were avid abusers of methamphetamines, junkies with a lust for euphoria. Although, I was lucky to survive my birth, I wouldn’t go on without them naming me Bartholomew Umberto Theodore Thomas, landing me the initials, “BUTT.” Due to deficiencies at birth I never grew past five feet. This gave my parents the idea to sign me up for the Toddler Horse Jockeys. In the middle of summer- jockey-camp I suffered a slight fracture in my vertebrae causing me to lose any control of my legs. I wasn’t paralyzed. I was left with uncontrollable legs which caused me to walk in a marching motion until my later adolescence. For ten straight years I was nicknamed “Colonel Butt.” I have also lived my life with an allergy to chocolate, alcoholic beverages, meat, vegetables, fruits, rain, ocean water, potato chips and cheese. My eyebrows never grew in. I have a size 15 foot and a size 8 foot. I had red hair until I started balding at the age of 14. I need the thickest glasses to at least see blurry. My back-hair grows faster than I salivate. I have really big lips, and they’re always chapped. When my nose isn’t running, it’s bleeding. I get sunburns in the winter time. I have a 4 hour commute to work in traffic, where I work in a toll booth. My car doesn’t have heat, air-conditioning, cup holders, radio, power steering, or anti-lock breaks. I have never swum in a pool because of a shark phobia. I lost hearing in my right ear. I have short fingers and hairy knuckles. I have never been on an upside-down rollercoaster because of my height. I’ve never been invited to a party. I shower in my underwear. All of my wisdom teeth are impacted. I have an enlarged prostate and I broke both of my legs skiing for the first time last weekend.”

Operator: “You broke both of your legs? How did you get to the bridge?”

Caller: “My wife dropped me off.”