On the Fourth of July in the year 2003, my idiot brother set off a spool fireworks, you know, the ones that have like 300 in a spool, and they all shoot off like a gatling gun until they run out. Well, the spool tipped over and all the fireworks began shooting off into the small crowd of people, which included me, three of my brothers and some other childhood friends. So everyone starts freaking, diving on the ground, behind my car, etc. and apparently while everyone else had found cover behind my car, I was still trying to move some of the other highly flammable things, out of the way. So, this part is what my brothers witnessed, because I couldn't see any of it, but as I moved things out of the way, apparently the whole time they fireworks were only narrowly missing me. By the time I slide across the hood of my car to safety with my brothers, I had apparently dodged a plethera of fireworks, and my brothers started calling me Neo, as a joke. For a while, I didn't really think much about it, but every one treated me different after that...like I had done something special, but I just knew where not to be and when. Just basic intuition but I think some tend not to embrce natural instincts, whereas I've spent most of my REAL life attempting to embrace them. Sorry...too long, huh?