I met Boy Number Two during camping, when I joined the Boy Scouts.
Out of the entire scout, he was definitely the most “vibrant” one.
He was probably the most beautifully vibrant Boy Scout in the entire history of Boy Scouts.
Oddly enough though, aside from his appearance, there’s nothing else about his existence that has to do with beauty or vibrance.
He loved all the hard work that came with being a Boy Scout, chopping firewood, tidying up the campground, mounting flagpoles, and setting up tents. All the busy work would make sweat pour down his face, but he would still be beautifully vibrant, like a cherry being washed under the tap.
He has a younger sister, who was also quite pretty as well. But her brother always stole the spotlight, and she’d often stand in his shadow as an accessory.
“I never want to be a scout, I want to be as far away from my brother as possible.” His sister admitted to me bitterly.
Despite knowing his sister, I had never spoken to him before. It wasn’t until a decade later, that the two of us met again, and recognized each other. We spoke, talking about the Boy Scouts, and which of those boys were the most special.
After mentioning twenty or so names, he said, “Those people that we’ve just talked about, I’ve slept with all of them.”
For a fifteen-year-old Boy Scout at the time, he was quite impressive.
I met Boy Number Two during camping, when I joined the Boy Scouts.
Out of the entire scout, he was definitely the most “vibrant” one.
He was probably the most beautifully vibrant Boy Scout in the entire history of Boy Scouts.
Oddly enough though, aside from his appearance, there’s nothing else about his existence that has to do with beauty or vibrance.
He loved all the hard work that came with being a Boy Scout, chopping firewood, tidying up the campground, mounting flagpoles, and setting up tents. All the busy work would make sweat pour down his face, but he would still be beautifully vibrant, like a cherry being washed under the tap.
He has a younger sister, who was also quite pretty as well. But her brother always stole the spotlight, and she’d often stand in his shadow as an accessory.
“I never want to be a scout, I want to be as far away from my brother as possible.” His sister admitted to me bitterly.
Despite knowing his sister, I had never spoken to him before. It wasn’t until a decade later, that the two of us met again, and recognized each other. We spoke, talking about the Boy Scouts, and which of those boys were the most special.
After mentioning twenty or so names, he said, “Those people that we’ve just talked about, I’ve slept with all of them.”
For a fifteen-year-old Boy Scout at the time, he was quite impressive.
