An unintentional cliff-hanger

As I went to bed last night and almost finished talking to Jeffrey, I said, “Oh crap.  I never explained why I was a company whore for Priape.” In order to explain this and other phenomenons, I’m going to deploy a few -Ings!

Loving:

Unico and Ginch Gonch Underwear.  I bought them at Priape and I love them to death (and I know Jeffrey will too).  A gay man can never have too many awesome pairs of underwear.  Who knows when your pants are going to rip at the seams and the whole world will see your underwear? (That has never happened to me, but I saw it happen to a guy in drama class.  Oh drama class…)

Enjoying:

The compliments I received when I was wearing my new black jeans in the Katima-house yesterday.  You know that people have lived with you for too long when they know that you have new jeans.  Then again, I didn’t own any black jeans before, so that could be a logical conclusion as well.  Next jean to buy: Charcoal grey jeans at Old Navy.

Fearing:

The copious amounts of coughing I hear in the Katimavik house.  (TMI ALERT) I have a bit of phlegm in my throat and it’s freaking me out.  I’m washing my hands like I’m OC, not touching my face and drinking water.  I refuse to get sick, especially when I will be managing the house next week.

Today the Katima-group is going rock climbing in an indoor gym somewhere.  I didn’t use to enjoy rock climbing but now it is fun and games until someone impales themselves on a rock attached to a wall while they are rappelling.  The first time I went rock climbing was on my childhood friend & next door neighbour’s someteempth birthday (I guess we were about 9 or 10).  We went to Sport’s World to climb some walls and I was nervous and couldn’t do much climbing.  The birthday girl was fearless and hit the bell many times.  After watching her climb up there and jump back down again, I wondered what I was so afraid of.  Everything was safe, no one was going to get hurt.  By using that logic, I was no longer afraid of heights.  This story isn’t very exciting as no one actually took out one of their eyes on a rock.  Too bad for the reader, eh? Maybe I’ll James Frey the story a little…

It was a stormy night in May.  It was Emily’s birthday, she wanted to go rock climbing at Death World.  Being her best friend and next door neighbour, I decided to come along, not knowing what perils and dangers lied ahead.  As we were driving down the 401, we passed by a dead cat being eaten by crows.  As I was staring at the feast, one of the crows slowly turned its head and looked at me.  I shuddered and hoped that this was not a sign of things to come. 

We arrived at Death World and got set up in our old climbing gear.  The buckles were rusty and the straps smelled of moth balls.  I asked if there was any other climbing gear to use and the employee said, “Sorry little man, that’s all we got”.  “Whatever,” I thought, “at least there is someone holding me up with a rope.” Emily goes up first, and since she is the birthday girl, she gets brand-spanking-new rock climbing equipment, courtesy of Death World.  She makes it to the top of the wall, dings the bell, and rappels back down the wall with ease.  “Your turn, Ed!” she says enthusiastically.  “Okay… are you sure?” I reply back.  “It’ll be fine! There’s always someone holding the rope, so you’ll never fall.” “That’s true.  Okay, I’ll do it!” I say,  swallowing my fears. 

When I looked up at the wall, it seemed like it went on forever and the bell was barely visible at the top.  I slowly started to make my climb, my legs shaking on the funny shaped rocks, trying to steady myself.  I look back and see the employee with the rope, giving me the thumbs up (of course, I’m still only on the first row of rocks, silly me).  I climb up and get more sure of myself with each stone I grasp. 

Just as I am about to reach the top, I lose my footing on a rock and feel my stomach churn.  “Don’t look down! You’re almost there!” yells Emily.  I don’t know what it is about that phrase, but when you’re told not to do something, you always do it.  So I look down and realize that I am very high up the wall and everyone is watching me.  As I look down, I try to find where my rope is.  I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it on the ground in a heap.  … At that point it hits me: “Wait.  There’s supposed to be someone holding that rope.  It’s not supposed to be on the ground.” My nerves start to kick in and my hands begin to shake and sweat as I attempt to grasp the next rock with my right hand.  I reach for the rock too quickly and my right hand falls to my side.   Now I only have my left hand and my two feet delicately perched on rocks.  I attempt to pull myself to the wall, but gravity wants to fight me, and I fall to the ground.  Gravity 1, Ed 0.  I can see the rocks moving away from me in slow motion as I let out a scream.  I can feel the ground rushing up to meet me…

Oh wait, that won’t do.  I didn’t take out my eye or anything.  Uhmmm…

All of a sudden, a crow flies in through the window, its beak all bloody, screaming “CAAAAAAAAAAAAW!” I recognized the crow as the same one that was eating the dead cat and staring at me.  Now I was staring at it and it was flying at me like a black torpedo.  I close my eyes and the crow’s beak tears through my eyelid and scoops up my eye into it’s beak.  It felt like a spoon scooping out a grape from a Del Monte fruit salad.  Then I hit the ground and die.

There.  Worst.  Story.  Ever.  Time to go rock climbing for real.  If I call anyone and see any crows, start preparing for my funeral.

P.S. Today’s underwear is the Emo Boy Shorts from La Senza for Men.

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