by Aryn Corley
The only thing worse than listening to a time share presentation would be being trapped in a Chilean mine. Actually, it would be worse if one was trapped in a Chilean time share with minors.
However, that's the subject for another article.
As of this writing, there are 33 souls trapped a little more than half a mile below the ground in a mine in Chile. To put that into perspective, Jared from Subway would have to lower two thirds of his intestines into the hole in order to get them out. Yum! Judging from the pictures and video I've seen on the Internet, the miners seem to be taking it in stride. They're smiling, mugging for the camera, and walking around shirtless like a third-world Lorenzo Lamas.
There's a waterfall under there so it's not like those guys are stinking up the place. They have a television so they can stay up date on their favorite show “Jersey Shore”. The miners say they can really identify with fellow subterranean life form “Snooki”.
To alleviate some of their boredom, the miners entertain themselves by playing games. With the interconnectedness of the mine tunnels, coupled with the infinite darkness, they've been playing a wicked game of “Marco Polo” for the last several days. Just imagine the fun those guys could have had if only someone had the foresight to bring night vision goggles and a paintball gun.
These guys are having no shortage of things to eat either. Food is being delivered to them in a nice convenient tube. If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would totally install a “pizza pipeline” and have warm pie extruded directly to me from Big Lou's Pizza of San Antonio.
Most fascinating to me is the revelation that one of the miners has his wife AND girlfriend topside awaiting his return. I think his name is El Tigre Bosque (that's Spanish for “Tiger Woods”). As a general rule, wives and girlfriends shouldn't find out about each other. They tend to get upset when they do. If the miners were politicians it wouldn't be an issue. Admittedly, I fail to give proper credit to Chilean miners when I ponder careers that really attract the ladies. The next time I'm trying to impress a woman, I'll ditch my rap about being a secret agent for the government and go with the story about being the guy who holds the flashlight.
The capitol of Chile is Santiago. This isn't important information for this article, albeit a nice non-sequitur.
I hope someone down in that cold, dark, lonely cavern of despair is feeling the creative urge to write. A cavern, thirty three miners, and a tube dropping meat is a recipe for the greatest sitcom, ever! If the sitcom doesn't pan out, an off-broadway musical starring Neal Patrick Harris would be absolutely fabulous.
Sincerely, I hope every single one of those guys makes it out of that tunnel alive and makes it back to see wives, girlfriends, and whoever else wants to give them cigarettes.
Although, I think if I were in Chile I'd probably take my chances underground. The surface is where all the problems are.
