In 2002, I was 25 years old and convinced I was untouchable. I was living in Sarasota, Florida, driving a Mercedes, and running a business, but I was fueled by a dangerous mix of ego and addiction.
We were leaving a bowling alley, headed to the clubs, and the drinks were already flowing. One of my friends looked at me and said, ‘You’re not crazy.’
I looked him dead in the eye and said, ‘I’ll show you crazy.’
I floored it. I took a turn so hard the Mercedes rose up on two wheels. For a second, we were balancing on the edge of life and death. Then I lost it. I slammed into a tree, and the car burst into flames. We all scrambled out of the smoke and fire, and the first thing I did—still holding my drink without spilling a drop—was look at them and say, ‘Now that’s crazy.’
The ‘crazy’ part was that I had wrecked right in front of a parked cop.
I was arrested on the spot. That night ended the Florida dream. I was broke, exhausted, and headed back to New Jersey with nothing but the clothes on my back. I didn’t know it then, but I had just started a decades-long game of chicken with death. I’ve died six times in this life. That night in Sarasota was the first time I invited the Reaper into the passenger seat—and it wouldn’t be the last.
We all have a moment where our ego almost cost us our life. Have you ever had to hit rock bottom to realize you weren’t as ‘untouchable’ as you thought? Let’s talk about it below. 👇