Love whales, hate sharks, and deep waters. I usually snorkel in the shallow area and I get scared to even look at the deeper end of the water. My hatred for sharks stemmed from when I was young, 4 or 5 years old, born and lived by the sea for some years. My uncle had business partners, one of them owned a big cargo ship, and sometimes they drank aboard and made the captain take the ship in the ocean. My cousins and I tagged along. I remember my godfather (also a business partner) made a habit to make me cry/scare me by hanging me over the rail of the ship, and would say, 'look down below, sharks!'.
Sure enough, there were sharks. I cried until I got passed around these bully old farts, comforting me. Then I stop after I get their money and my nanny made me a hot Ovaltine (comfort drink). My mom told stories of me coming home still choking but with pockets full of money and she instantly knew someone made me cry.
Such a long story... anyway, I wondered all this time, what if the fucking asshole dropped me?! So there, I hate sharks cos they were below while I was hanging on to dear life from the hands of a drunk adult. Didn't just happen once, btw.
