I’m not really sure how I manage to constantly get myself into situations like this one.

“Okay, shutting the main hatch now.” Announces my new friend Tom as he swings the sturdily constructed hatch down. _Clunk!_ It is a heavy looking, concave steel door that seals with the deep ratcheting sound of heavy gears as my panic begins its attempt at climbing out of my chest.

Reaching out with my mind for something to distract and sooth my adrenal response, I remember how I got here in the first place.

I’d just started this new job as a test engineer at a biomedical start up and I was slow to make friends. In fact, I always have been. I wanted this job to signify a new start. My rationale was this: I’m a full adult now with a big boy job so I should well be able to make friends like a normal person. I’m not afraid to admit it made me a bit desperate.

Despite my slight desperation, I did not find much success. Engineers are a bit finicky interpersonally speaking and I am no exception. This early failure was disheartening and I was resigning myself to a dull and friendless existence, dramatic I know, when Tom Reynolds started. He introduced himself to me at my desk and I was immediately struck by his approachability. He was all easy smiles and jolly chuckles and I couldn’t help but feel at ease around him.

It became something of a habit of his to come around my desk at lunch and strike up conversation.

We would get to talking and come to find out we have a lot in common. We liked many of the same tv shows, read many of the same authors, and share an interest in movies.

Last Tuesday, we were talking movies when _The Hunt for Red October _brought up.

“I love that movie!” I said with a real smile.

“Oh man, you would have to be crazy not to.” Tom agreed jovially.

“I love the cat and mouse style storytelling, and it’s just vintage Connery.” I say, gushing a bit over the classic.

“Me too, dude! And you know, I actually have a submarine.” He said, a bit reserved.

Bemused, I ask with a chuckle,

“What do you mean you have a submarine?”

“Well, I built it. It’s no Red October obvioisly, it’s only about 20 feet long but it can dive and surface with the best of them.” He splays his hands out and shrugs in a gesture that tells me he is completely serious.

“You built a 20 foot submarine?! That’s so cool!” I say, genuinely impressed as my engineer brain begins to realize all that building a submarine, regardless of size, would entail.

“I did! It took a few years and a lot of trial and error but she’s sea-worthy! Er… lake-worthy I guess since I keep it at my folks’ lake house.” He corrects himself.

“That’s incredible, I can only imagine the work that went into it.” I put my hand to my forehead to show how boggled my mind truly is.

“You should come with me on a dive!”

Here is where my mistake is made.

Being so eager to continue making a good impression on my new friend and having no small measure of impulsiveness I said,

“Yeah that sounds awesome!” I wanted this to be sort of non-committal but my enthusiasm tainted the desired effect.

Before I knew it, we had concrete plans for a dive on Saturday, which is today.

“You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to weld this bad boy.” remarks Tom with a proud knock on the main hatch, dragging me unwillingly back to the moment.

I manage a “I’m sure it was,” trying for casually impressed. I see I failed, because Tom asks,

“You okay, buddy?” Concern coloring his tone.

At this point I just want to claw my way out of this cylindrical steel coffin and kiss dry land, but the thought of facing Tom on Monday after having utterly chickened out welds me to my seat.

“Yeah man, just… never done anything like this before. It’s really impressive!” I try for anything that will keep him talking and therefor from seeing exactly how terrified I feel. It works this time. Tom goes on an exhaustive explaination about the specifics of life support which include an 02 delivery system as well as

Ran out of time