My Friday AM rowing partner is still involved with my old Boy Scout troop and keeps me updated on their goings-on and recent trips. This morning he mentioned that they’re planning their bi-annual caving trip in a few months and I was invited to come along. He said the boys had a great time last time I came and asked when I was coming back. I believe it was my revelation that the card game they were playing that night was not called “Kings” but was actually a PG version of “Asshole” and the new rules I introduced blew their young minds. Or it could have been that I told them I was a former NFL rookie of the year and now did voice-overs for the Grand Theft Auto games. Either way I made a good impression.
He also said the G was invited. If we hadn’t stopped to take a break from the heat (the humidity, even at 7am, was like rowing with a blanket over the boat) I would have caught a crab and fallen into the water with laughter. Ha! The G in a cave? How droll!
When I was on that last trip there was about 15 minutes where I was completely alone in the cave. Some of the guys had gotten tired and wanted to go back, while others wanted to go deeper underground. I took the crybaby quitters back to the mouth and then turned around to follow the winners. But when I got back to where I left them the cave split and I didn’t know which way to go. So I waited for them to come back. And to save battery life I turned off the lights. If you have never been in a cave, you can not imagine the darkness. It’s just all nothing, everywhere. There is no difference between having your eyes opened or closed.
So there I am, for ten or so minutes, in blackness and silence. I click my headlamp on every few minutes to see if crazy old Plato is right about the shadows when… Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud…
WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?!
Light on: Nothing.
Light off: Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud…
Light on: BATS! EVERYWHERE! MOTHER FUCKING BAAAATS!
Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud… Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud… Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud… Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud…
There only about 7 bats total but it still freaked me the fuck out. They were flying their crazy-erratic flapping for only about 5 seconds before the took off to eat mosquitoes or mice or snakes or whatever it is outdoorsy people say they’re good for.
The story also creeps the G out and she wasn’t even there. She hates the idea of caves. She views these abhorrent lesions under the Earth as proof that God does not exist. The field trip to Lurray Caverns as a child was the worst day of her life. She doesn’t even like it when I ape the Phudfudfudfudfudfudfudfud sound.
So that’s why we need to come up with a way to trick the Guv’ness into going to see The Descent. We’ll be like “Here’s your ticket to Little Miss Sunhine…why don’t you take the aisle…and here’s your popcorn and Diet Coke and… SUCKER! This is really The Descent and you’re not allowed to leave ‘cause you shoes are stuck to the floor with jujubes!”
I don’t really want to see it that much but every time the commercial comes on she hides under the bed. C’mon, who wants in on this ruse?