No one forced me to do this. But I am a man who likes challenges. Hiking from the bottom of Elinor's pocketbook all the way to the top was something I'd been contemplating for months, ever since I got a gander the contents when she opened it briefly. I'm not sure even she knows what in there.
On the appointed day I made sure I had enough food and water and medical supplies. My cell phone was charged. The protocol was simple. If I run into serious trouble, just call and friends would reach in and yank me out. Elinor was crabbier than usual, announcing the whole thing was silly and she was ignoring me.
I was fine with that. This was never about her. I needed something to motivate me. My job selling Venetian blinds was growing stale. This excited me like nothing since negotiating my way out of Kevin's sock drawer.
I took the elevator straight down to the bottom, got out and looked around. I was surrounded by loose, crumpled tissue. When I parted them I jumped back. I was confronted by a voodoo doll full of pins which resembled Levon, her ex. I gingerly stepped around it and reached up to grab my first object. My plan was to keep boosting myself using whatever I could get me hands on.
Over the next four hours, battling dehydration and hunger after I went through my provisions too quickly, bleeding from the shins, I climbed past a hairbrush, a pack of condoms, two crusty Altoids, keys, a small mirror, lipstick, cell phone. Q-tips, notepad, tweezers, eyeliner, gum, a toothpick, sunglasses, a broken strand of beads, perfume, handkerchief, hair spray and a full water bottle.
When I emerged, exhausted and sweat soaked, it was night. Everyone had gone home. I could hear Elinor snoring in bed. I shrugged, made myself a ham sandwich and watched Jimmy Fallon. I had beaten my Everest. The kudos would come in good time. Man, I wish I had kept a diary.
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