Shit, it’s been a hot minute since we went roller skating, thanks to my pernicious moods and “unrealistic” rink standards (according to Henry). But Chooch got invited to a birthday party at our old skate headquarters and even though it was taken over by lame-o Christians, I sucked it up and stuck around to skate it out. Sometimes you just gotta take the high road.
SO THEY SAY.
Roller DJ isn’t even there anymore. :(
Anyway, parents got to skate for free, courtesy of the birthday boy, so that made it even better – now I didn’t have to get the rink my own money! Henry claims his “foot hurt” so he opted out and I know that he wanted to just drop us off and go and run errands or whatever you call that stuff that grown-ups do but I was like “YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME HERE WHAT IF A PARENT TALKS TO ME.”
So he stayed and guess what? No parents talked to me! I must have a certain look or something. Or maybe it was just because they were so intimidated by how badass I am on skates.
(LOL, I was actually super shaky because it’s been a year since I skated last, almost!)
Henry was really opposite-of-stoked when the DJ spun “Man in the Mirror” and he couldn’t swirl around on skates to the inspirational lyrics.
Meanwhile, Chooch’s “nemesis” was in attendance (they love/hate each other) and she really can’t skate. She had to snail along the rink behind one of those training triangles (aka a walker with wheels) and Henry was like, “Wow, finally something that Chooch can do better than her.” And then, “I feel bad for her.”
“Pfft! I don’t! Let her suck at something for once!” I spat.
Henry frowned. This is why kids can’t come over to Chooch’s house.
Riley reppin’ Riot Fest at the roller rink.
I wanted Chooch to skate over to the lame ass DJ and dare him to play a single band listed on the back of his Riot Fest shirt.
But instead, Chooch did something better! He requested CALL ME MAYBE! How do I have the best son in the world?! Oh yeah, because I’m the best, too! Henry was in mid-sentence when that candy-coated pop sensation started playing and I screamed “GIRL BYE” as I glided away from him like a motherfucking swan on quads.
Henry’s used to not being able to finish his sentences though. Sometimes when we’re on the phone, I just hang up without a word when I’ve heard enough.
The fact that there is a huge, universal pox upon 2016 was not lost on me and I had concerns that I was tempting fate by the mere act of even lacing up my skates. If ever I was going to break a limb on the rink, this could be the day. But I made it, even with all the little wheeled-terrorists out there, skating against traffic, causing bottle-necks and pile-ups, looking at their phones — I could have perished out there, but I made it out unscathed.
I was lucky though because someone dropped their idiot locker key on the rink and I happened to see it before tripping over it and cracking my skull open. The last time I went skating, I tripped over CANDY and when I tried to tell someone about it, they made me feel like a LIAR because the evidence was supposedly GONE. Yeah, probably because it was all ground up under my skate!
Anyway, I flagged down one of the apathetic skate guards and told him to go pick up the key.
Literally. I was like “You have to pick it up. I’m not picking it up lol.” Because I’m too afraid to stop in the middle of the rink with all those amateurs out there! It’s like stopping in the middle of a highway.
Anyway, the whole point of this post is to say that I have been in a huge funk and have also been feeling extremely combative on top of that. The night before this was incredibly poor, I was in a sour mood and feeling absolutely belligerent, and I had some fears that being among dummies at the skating rink would do more harm than anything good, but it turned out to be just the opposite. I had a lovely time pretending to grind my opposition and oppressors beneath the wheels of my skates to the tune of Ke$ha’s “Tic Toc” and instead of raging when Meghan Trainor came on (TWICE!), I simply exited the rink and sat on the bench in silent protest of shitty music.
I still don’t like what that rink has become, but options are few and far between these days so I guess it’s either deal with it or skate down an abandoned street during the zombie apocalypse a la Carl and Enid.
“Wasn’t I so well-behaved?” I asked Henry before we left, and he just frowned at me because I guess “being well-behaved” is expected and not something we should stop the earth from spinning in order to celebrate on the few occasions I do it. Whatevelyn.
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