Actually I don't want a lap dance

First off, the numbness is starting to wear off. Maybe the shock is passing on Thursday night's announcement that the Cubs aren't going to pursue re-signing Kerry Wood is passing. I've gotten learned in experiencing shock. It's not the initial blow, it's how quickly you recover.

New teams beware of injuries accrued by playing Guitar Hero



Still it would be easier if the guy was a high-ego, self-centered scumball. Instead, here is a guy who was invested in the community and because of his bulldog competitiveness probably made himself more injured than he should have. A really good column puts all of this much more succinctly than I can.

OK, the title probably caught some people's attention. The proposition certainly caught my attention when it was uttered to me. It must be that I appear trust-worthy, honest or just not like a serial killer. That or I have a "Taxi" sign on my Tacoma. But on both Monday or Tuesday I was implored for rides home from strange girls late at night.

Monday after meeting my climbing buddy Ian for drinks I'm walking the four or so blocks away where I parked in a brisk breeze. Some hipster asks me if I'm going home and if I have a car. She offers me gas money if I could take her home. A sucker for a damsel in distress, I offer. Before I know it I'm giving two girls, coming down from the happy effects of liquor and ecstasy, a ride to 11th & Washington.

Ian enjoying a beverage at The Irish Rover


The girl in the front won't shut up. The two girls start arguing - not yelling, but that raised imploring voice girls use with each other. I tell them if they want the ride home, they gotta knock that out. Girl in front begins apologizing and leaning over and rubbing my arm and chest. "And you gotta knock that out to."

Drop them off at 11th & Washington. Girl in front doesn't know where she is. "I'll just walk home from here." "You don't know where you are. How the hell are you going to walk home?" Girl in back, who has been quiet and leery outside of the argument - probably because she looked over and saw I still have a hatchet in the back of my truck from my camping trip the weekend before - states she can get her home.

Tuesday after a strong night at climbing gym and then beers at CB & Potts and The Cherry Cricket, driving home. I'm thirsty so I stop at a gas station for a Sobe Green Tea. Girl comes up to me and asks if I'm going north. She needs a ride and where she's going is less than a mile away. I chuckle and comply.

Get in, she tosses me a fake name. I ask if she's had a good night. She says she just came from her girlfriend's place and got a great lapdance. "Why? Do you want a lap dance? I can give you a lap dance if you want one."

Hmm.. .let's see: Girl is barely legal, girl has bloodshot eyes, girl is, well, she's not the type when you were younger that you brought home to meet your mother. And wow, getting offered a lapdance in less than a minute into conversation. While I admire her candid get-to-the-pointedness, yeah, DEFINITELY going to pass on that one.

Get to her apartment complex. She thanks me for the ride. Asks if I really do want to come up for the lapdance and.. oh! Here's the caveat: "Do you have any drugs on you?"

Have a good night fake girl name. "You know my name is ____? Wow, you have a good memory."

Which of course made me think, do I look like the guy desperate enough to accept a lapdance from a tripped-out girlie picked up at the gas station? And are there guys ho have evolved to possess opposable thumbs who would?

Finally...

Scanned in some old Utah photos from a trip back in the 90s. Good times with Mike & Simon. Whenever we reminisce about it, our jaws hurt afterwards from laughing so much.

Mike's boulder he wanted to take home from Capitol Reef NP; Mike bouldering outside of Moab. Me leading a climb on a windy day in Capitol Reef NP