As I walked around in a nameless Florida town where everyone instead rides cars, I heard a commotion – cheers, yelling, screaming coming from a nearby building. The World Cup had ended a month ago, and it was merely a Thursday at noon. I noticed a tall, recently built hotel nearby, standing at twenty something floors. I crossed the street and approached the chaos.
Upon arriving I saw 10 people looking up, expectantly. “What are you looking at?” I asked an elderly couple that stared up in total silence. “The cleaning woman is jumping for the sixth time!” She replies. “Jump?!” I returned to her. “Yes!” Exclaimed the husband. “They’re opening a bungee jump, and they need someone to jump six times to prove it is safe to open to the public”.
As he finished explaining the spectacle to me, I see a short Asian woman with an apron approach the ledge of the uppermost balcony. A hotel employee from the top introduces her, and people respond with cheers.
“Why is she the one to test the safety of this attraction?” I asked the couple. He snaps a photo with his small camera and she answers “They pay the guinea pig well. Her son is in jail and she wants to send him money to get snacks in there”.
I look up and see the one, completely expressionless, getting ready for her sixth consecutive jump. I immediately thought about three things -how strange it is to visit Florida, which snacks might they sell in the jail commissary, and the realization of all the women who jump.
