So. I watched this little clip.
I almost threw up.
You could not pay me to drive across this bridge. I would have the panic attack of all panic attacks—can I say that, never having actually had a panic attack? It’s been five minutes since I finished the clip and my breathing still ain’t quite right. I still get a small twinge of fear just riding the Q-train across the Manhattan Bridge. I am convinced that one day, I will be just minding my own business, not bothering anybody, certainly not trying to offend the bridge in any way whatsoever, and a MASSIVE EARTHQUAKE will strike as I’m dead center of the middle span. That’s the part that always breaks and goes crashing into the water below, and I’ll just be ass out, not being able to swim, trapped with tons of steel to die a slow, painful death by drowning.
That is my everyday life. I think about earthquakes at least once every single day, and being that I live on an island connected to the rest of the world by bridges and tunnels, I already know I’m destined to die some tragic death in a battle of mother nature vs. human engineering.
So wherever the hell this bridge is in China, I couldn’t even get within eyesight of it. I would probably pee on myself and then die of embarrassment. Either way, I would be rendered Dead by a bridge and nobody wants to go out like that.