I knew I had to go back to that spot; I’d promised to film some behind-the-scenes footage of David’s big interview, and I didn’t want to let him down. The idea of again running the grass-lined, ninja-tick-infested gauntlet that led to the sandy shore was debilitating. I didn’t want to overcome my aversion. Hence, it irritated me to realize I had no other choice. I sought solace in a bit of bitching, just enough to make David sigh with impatience before I finally bucked up like a big girl and said, “Okay, I’ll go. I’ll walk that creepy-crawly-blood-sucky trail of death tomorrow morning. Just know I’m doing it for you.”
David fought an urge to roll his eyes, I could tell, and smiled his appreciation. Then he went about removing and examining his own clothing, like the civilized person he is.