So yesterday, I was helping my brother remodel part of the warehouse. We put down about seven hundred square feet of floor.
Let me tell you, walking around on the cross beams prior to putting all the ply down was not easy:
I mean at first you have this unholy fear of taking a wrong step and going through the beams and seriously injuring the nether regions.
Then there is the height thing. Those two reasons alone are cause for a large pucker factor.
Once you are up there for awhile though, you get used to it.
Today, I am in some serious hurt:
I am having a difficult time walking down stairs and stuff. I mean this is not like the pain you get cycling around all day. This feels like cycling around all day going full throttle.
In short, it hurts.
Speaking of shorts, I damaged my shorts climbing up and around that wooden jungle jim.
Hawaiian air conditioning if you will.
Can you feel the breeze?
I'm not talking small kine rip, I'm talking massive ventilation.
Here's what I mean:
If I had Pokey down my shorts, he would look like he was hanging his head out the car window, tongue wagging in the breeze.
For reference, here's Gumby:
Now, I don't think I'd like to be known as the guy with Gumby in his pants, but I'll take green over orange.
Gumby sort of looks like he's escaping from something and he looks happy to be alive.
Anyways, this hole was ginormous.
It's these kinds of situations that make me a believer in underwear.
Oh, and the shorts did not start to disintegrate at the end of the night. I had to work like that for like three hours.
Actually it was pretty muggy in the warehouse, so maybe the puka shorts were a kind of blessing.
I've learned a lesson though. A back up pair of shorts will be part of my readiness kit from now on.
Just for fun, here's what it might have looked like if I had a some ramen in my shorts:
Not that I would care to transport ramen that way.
Besides, I wouldn't want to be known as the guy with noodles in his pants.