Ties: Man’s best friend, or evil throat snakes?

Kalamazoo, MI –

While I was blasting down the highway in my dope new Volkswagen Jetta, I received a troubling call. A close friend had been found passed out with a tie around his neck; the prognosis was attempted suicide. But that just couldn’t be true, not this guy, he loved life too much. Also, he had no hands and hadn’t tied a knot in his goddamned life. So how did that tie get to his throat? Theories abound. I slipped into a revery.

The first evidence of the modern tie can be found in the 2nd century A.D. The tie was the brainchild of a man by the name of Jimmy Buffett (no relation). Jimmy was a proponent of auto-erotic asphyxiation, possibly the most prominent of his era. To this end, he designed just another addition to the panoply of useless adornments known as accessories, but with the ulterior motive of creating an acceptable indulgence of his fetish. Thus, the tie tumbled into being.

Buffett’s invention would gain wide renown and become widely accepted in the western world as the paraphernalia of the distinguished. It wasn’t until the early 2000’s that a troubling development would call into question mankind’s reliance on the tie.

Ties, or something more sinister?
Ties, or something more sinister?

It was a rainy night, the Cardinals had lost a heart-breaker, and Jake “The Snake” Plummer was despondent. Crashing into his apartment, he looked for the first thing he could grab; an open drawer of ties caught his attention. Grabbing a handful of ties he made his way staggeringly up the fire escape of his apartment, alighting on the roof with alacrity appropriate of an elite athlete. Here, Plummer made his final gambit. Throwing the ties towards the heavens, Plummer screamed, “God! Mold me into thine most successful of football players! In exchange, you may turn my ties into snakes!” The silver lining for you and I is that God obliged only half of Plummer’s strange plea (he wasn’t so great at football, good, but nothing spectacular. A real Romo or Dak Prescott in modern terms). The ties slithered away, while Plummer wept bitter tears.

Could one of these accursed ties sought to snuff out the life of my handless amigo? Probably not, but can never rule it out. Every story of mishap involving the throat ornament in question brings to mind a singular question; is that tie really an evil throat-snake brought to life by the desperate request of Jake “The Snake” Plummer?

Just then, I snapped out of my daydream. Realizing that my friend’s last name was Wilson, not Watson, I became aware that this call was in fact the result of a wrong number. “You have a wrong number”, I yelled at this mistaken douche. I hung up, thoughts of sentient ties haunting my psyche.

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