Ausborne Blog

It was the summer of 1992 (or was it 1991?), and I, David, Mark, Visiting David, and Kimball were all up to no good.  Well, I guess it wasn’t so much “no good,” as it was having fun with no real regard for any possible cares in the world.  We were in San Francisco, though it was not for any particular reason other than to just be there.  We were listening to “I LIke Chinese” by Monty Python while driving through Chinatown, when we came across the Holiday Inn Hotel.  I don’t know who came up with the idea, but one of us was a genius.  Or something.

We decided to take the elevator to the roof of the hotel, where crazy people could go swimming, if they so desired.  I say “crazy people” because I can’t imagine that there are many days during the year when the weather in San Francisco would be conducive to swimming in a pool twenty six floors up.  While up there, I remember coming out of the door onto the roof, then turning to the left, where I saw a waist-high chain link fence.  I sauntered (you know, saunter – “a walk with a leisurely gait; a stroll” – duh) over to the fence and immediately became fearful of heights.  Never before had I never had such a phobia, but the view of the ground from twenty six floors up, with nothing to keep me from falling that distance apart from a waist-high chain link fence.  My hands immediately went into “death grip” mode as they latched onto the fence, releasing only so I could inch away from the edge.

Anyways, now we get on to the “genius” plan that somebody (I’m sure it wasn’t me – I think) came up with.  I’m sure it went something like this:  “Hey, why not have a race down all twenty six flights of stairs?”  What could go wrong, right?  For some reason, we all thought this was a good idea, so we lined up and started the race.  One member of our entourage, David (not to be confused with Visiting David), was pretty ingenious and came up with the idea of leaving the stairway somewhere around the twentieth floor, hopping in the elevator, then riding it down to the second or third floor before rejoining the race.

Did you know that when you run down twenty six flights of stairs, your legs become accustomed to going down many flights of stairs, and become incapable of going up even one flight of them?  Yeah, that’s what happened.  We noticed because, when we got to the bottom, we realized that we were in the basement, and the door was locked.  We had to walk up one flight to the first floor just so we could get out.

I’m sure that cheating helped David (once again, not Visiting David) to not suffer to the same degree as the rest of us, but he still had to deal with getting all the way back to the car, which was a few blocks away.  I remember that walking on even the slightest incline was tedious, and I was surprised at how difficult it had become, simply because I had participated in this little contest.

It had been years since I’d thought of this event, but tonight I was chatting with Visiting David via Facebook, and it got me thinking about some fun experiences from Yesteryear (or Yesterdecade).  Thanks, Visiting David.

NOTE:  I’m sure that there are editing and flow issues with this post.  That’s what happens when you write at midnight.