Remember that time I got home from being trapped in Peru and didn’t have my apartment keys because they had been in my purse that had been stolen and the guys from the moving company downstairs from my apartment who are always outside smoking at 8 in the morning weren’t there so the communal door was locked and I tried to get in my backyard (in theory allowing me to break into my apartment after somehow making my way up the fire escape) by climbing over the shed behind the Italian men’s club but then realized that there was no way I could safely get over the two wobbly fences required to gain access to my backyard (important to note: my health insurance card was in my stolen purse as well) and as I turned to go back it struck me that there was nothing on that other side of the shed to hoist myself back up onto its roof and I was really scared I was stuck there and the Italian men’s club members would have to rescue me when they showed up to hang out 7 hours later and I would fall out of favor with them forever so I used that fear and threw myself (the body that had just hiked the Inca Trail and then gotten mugged) over the back fence, almost crushing my sister’s boyfriend (who had done nothing but be nice by picking me up from the airport) on the other side?
I don’t think we ever really discussed the fact that the Italian men are growing grapes back there. There’s a little vineyard situation happening.
