And so, to meet my one-blog-post-a-month quota, I'll have to dip into the archives for a brief tale that I have yet to publish on this blog. The story is nearly five years old, but remember--a rerun than you haven't seen before is just as good as a new episode. With that, I must return to my propositional phrases, abstract nouns, and gerunds. I had forgotten just how painful writing can be...thanks for nothing, education!
Until I find the time to finish my new post, enjoy this tale of a trip to the Grand Canyon...where a stranger seemingly had his heart set on exploring my "Grand Canyon"...
Early in the summer of 2006, during a glorious six-week stretch between college graduation and the drudgery of full-time work, I joined my mother on a 10-day vacation to the Southwest. One of our many stops during the trip included several days camping in the Grand Canyon. Unfortunately, my fear of heights prevented us from actually going down into the canyon or anywhere near the edge, so we spent our days hiking along the rim, seeing what we could see from the top.
Between hikes one afternoon, we stopped in the lodge to use the restrooms. Mom asked me to hold onto her camera while she went to the restroom, so I sat down at an empty table to wait for her. As I sat there, I felt someone eyeing me from across the room. I glanced up, and out of the corner of my eye I could see someone staring at me. I tried to avoid eye contact and continued sitting there...but I noticed the person coming toward me.
"Hi." This guy came up to me and introduced himself. Why was this complete stranger talking to me? He was trying to make small talk, so I mumbled one-word answers and stared at the floor, trying my best to discourage any further conversation. "Are you hiking the canyon today?" he asked me. "Maybe..." I answered, knowing full well that I wasn't going anywhere near the edge. By this time, things were getting more awkward by the second.
"You look like a fit guy, I bet you could do it." Red flag!!! The awkwardness increased tenfold. "Yeah," I mumbled back. He finally gave up on his quest to meet his dream man in Arizona and said good-bye and walked off. Up to that point, I was hoping Mom would get back from the restroom so I could either (1) make an excuse that we had to leave and sprint out of there, or (2) pretend she was my much, much, much older wife so that he would get the message that I just don't swing from that side of the plate. Unfortunately, I had to fend off his advances on my own.
I certainly can't blame him, but I still have no idea what inspired the guy to come up and start talking to me. Was I flattered? Absolutely. Curious or interested? Not a bit. But I admire his taste and effort--I can't say that I wouldn't do the same thing if I was gay and spotted myself across the room.
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