Hello and welcome to 2024, you gorgeous reader, you! We managed to keep our head above water another year and our calves look amazing. Speaking of drowning, I recently celebrated the 10th anniversary of one of my favorite near-death experiences. As we mentally prepare ourselves for what could be a very tumultuous, challenging, eye-roll-inducing year ahead, and in honor of my near-deathiversary, I’d like to take you on a wild ride through the night that changed my life – a night when I became intimately acquainted with the cold, murky waters of Lake Jessamine and almost became the hoofer for life’s eternal cha-cha.
Picture this: it’s 3:00 AM, the witching hour, and I’m not fighting off werewolves. Instead I am wrestling with a cheetah onesie that is determined to turn me into a waterlogged creature of the deep. To answer your question of, “what the fuck were you doing at a lake at that ungodly hour and why were you wearing a cheetah onesie?” I will simply say that a gal in her early 20s consuming copious amounts of alcohol and meeting a dude with a boat is a formula for bad decision-making. We’ve all had those moments; maybe not while dawning jungle themed one-piece leisure garments, but there is no room for judgment here, my friends.
It all started innocently enough – a moonlit night, a few friends and the aforementioned dude with the boat. We thought we were the queens and kings of the lake, cruising through the water like we were in an episode of “Miami Vice,” the one where they ride on a boat at night (I have not seen a single episode of “Miami Vice”). The night air was crisp, the stars were shining, we were fighting crime (that was another “Miami Vice” reference, for the record), and living our best lives.
Fast forward to the moment my life flashed before my eyes. Captain Douche of the U.S.S. Wake Boat decided to go from zero to full-throttle without warning and I found myself plunging into the inky darkness of the lake. Fun fact: adult cheetah onesies that zip in the back and have attached footsies are neither reflective nor buoyant. As the lake water embraced me like an unwelcome hug from that one creepy uncle and/or guy you work with, my once majestic onesie morphed into an anchor, dragging me down into the depths of Lake Jessamine. Is this really how I’m going to die? In an adult-size version of babywear? Miraculously, one of the flashes-o-life that was before my eyes must have been the swim lessons I had as a child because I was treading the shit out of that water.
What seemed like several minutes but was really like 2-3 minutes later, the boat was back and my friends were pulling my anchored ass out of the water. As I clung to their arms like a jungle cat lost at sea, I realized I had just narrowly escaped becoming the main character in “The Tale of the Mossy Millennial Lake Monster” (working title) and/or the locally-trending hashtag #SabbyCatsLastSwim (working hashtag).
Lesson one: Fashion choices matter, even in near-death experiences. Lesson number two: Don’t underestimate the power of panic. “Sink or Swim” was the fork, and my road was a large loch in Central Florida. I had danced with Jessamine’s darkened depths, and it left me with more than just a soggy garb. My plummet into the unknown that night taught me some invaluable lessons that have stuck with me like glitter on rave titties. Lesson number three: Learn how to tread water and stay afloat.
As we all have heard countless times, but bears repeating: Life is unpredictable. Of course, a quick heads-up from the captain would have made my predicament in this story a bit more predictable, but I digress. The fickle nature of life (and irresponsible boat owners) will always exist and when you find yourself in the throes of their erratic behavior, you have to do whatever it takes to smell the sweet scent of victory over a watery demise.
A decade later and I have lived to tell you the tale. I have laughed at the absurdity of it all, I’ve reflected on the fateful lessons, and most importantly, I have cherished triumph over unpredictability. Let this cautionary tale remind you to choose your companions wisely, be mindful of the buoyancy of your attire whilst boating, and remember that life’s greatest lessons often come disguised as mishaps. Embrace the chaos, appreciate the humor, honor every waking moment, and for the love of all that is holy, wear a fucking lifejacket. Life is short, so make it sweet and keep your onesies dry.
Sabrina Ambra is a co-host of Real Radio 104.1’s “News Junkie” program and stand-up comedian.
