The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. Today I went bouldering with a girl called Elena. I met Elena a month ago. We're both in the same WhatsApp group for people who want to make friends. She started bouldering a month ago. She asked if I wanted to come along.

I got there late, at 9 pm. The streets were dark. I locked my electric scooter to the bike rack outside the bouldering centre and walked inside. It was brightly lit. Daft Punk was playing over the speakers. The walls were covered in green, yellow, and blue rocks. There was a feeling of energy as some climbers scaled the walls while others laughed and chatted with one another.

It was all familiar to me, of course. I'd been coming here for the last four years.

I thought I saw Elena. She was in the middle of the climbing centre, talking to some guy. But then I decided it probably wasn't Elena, because whoever this girl was, she was too hot. She was wearing tight shorts and top over her perfectly formed body.

I left my bag in the locker area. Then I went to go climb. The hot girl I saw before, it was Elena.

"Hi Paul," she said.

"Hi," I said.

She hugged me. I could see her nipples through her top. Then she started to explain how bouldering works and what the different colours mean:

"So yellow means very easy, green means easy, blue means intermediate, and then there's purple which means hard, and there's black, which is impossible—"

I listened patiently, even though I already knew all this stuff.

"Do you want to do the high walls?" I said.

The climbing centre has tall walls where you use a rope and harness.

"Okay," she said.

So we put on our harnesses and went over to the tall walls.

Now it was my time to impress Elena. I opened my tube of liquid chalk. I squeezed some chalk onto the palms of my hands. I thought about squeezing some chalk in my mouth too but decided not to, as chalk has no nutritional value. Then I started climbing one of the intermediate walls. I've been bouldering for four years so it should have been easy for me.

I managed to get halfway up when I started struggling. Groans of exertion escaped me. I haven't been bouldering in a while so I must have lost some strength and technique. Also, I'm officially fat (my weight is 81.3 kg, making my BMI is 25.1, which is overweight) and that probably doesn't help.

I heard Elena shout "You can do it!" from far down below.

With a grunt and a muttered oath, I managed to climb a little further. Then I couldn't do it. My hands let go. My rope gently lowered me back down to the ground.

"That was harder than I remember," I said, as I unhooked the rope from my harness.

"You should try again!" said Elena, smiling.

I didn't try again.

Elena tried an intermediate wall. It looked difficult. But Elena made it to the top.

"I'm impressed," I said when she was back down on the ground. "You're a natural climber."

"Thanks!" she said.

I had go on an easy wall. At least, the wall was supposed to be easy. I managed to make it to the top, albeit barely.

When I was back down on the ground, Elena showed me her phone.

"I took a photo of you," she said.

There I was, in the photo, climbing up the wall. Unfortunately, you could see the bald spot on the back of my head. I had a hair transplant in January for it but the hairs haven't started growing yet.

It was late. The workers were getting ready to close. One worker was putting chairs on tables. Elena and I were the only two climbers left.

At Elena's encouragement, I tried another intermediate wall. But I barely got off the ground before falling off. I used to be good at this, I thought. What's happened to me?

Then Elena had a go on the same wall. She made it much higher than I did. She reached halfway up the wall.

"Have you been doing climbing for long?" I asked her when she was back on the ground. The Scientist by Coldplay was playing over the speakers.

"No, just a month," she said.

The speakers were shut off. One of the workers came over to tell us, sternly, that they were closing.

"Sorry," I said.

Elena and I hastily put our harnesses and shoes back in our bags.

"I wanted to take a shower, but it's probably too late," said Elena.

"Uh-huh," I said. Do not think about Elena taking a shower. Do not think about Elena taking a shower.

As she bent over to put her harness in her bag I could see her cleavage down her top. I looked away.

We walked home together in the dark. I walked with my electric scooter and Elena walked beside me.

"Do you want to try my scooter?" I asked her.

Her face lit up.

"Really? I can use it?"

"Sure," I said.

I explained to her how to use it. "You push down on the accelerator to make it move. You squeeze the brake to make it stop."

She climbed on and then sped off down the pavement. I ran to keep up with her.

At the end of the street, she stopped. "Wow, it's really good," she said. She looked like a kid with a new toy.

"Borrow it if you want, I don't use it much anymore," I said.

"Really?" Her eyes were wide with amazement.

"Yeah. Just don't steal it or sell it."

So I left her with my electric scooter. I hope she doesn't crash it.