New Skating Recruits & Other Shit That Happens at the Rink

Just last week, Chooch whined to me, “I liked it better when people came with us to skate. You never ask anyone to come with us anymore!” But I do ask! All the time! As it turns out, most grown ups just don’t give a shit about roller skating. However, Laura was off last Sunday and promised that she would go, even though she fell when she attemped to skate at my birthday party last summer.

LAURA IS A TRUE FRIEND.

We arrived at the rink a little bit before 1:30 and it’s a good thing we disobeyed Henry by jumping out of the car and standing in line, because that line exploded really fast. It was so crowded last Sunday! Almost like roller skating was popular again.

In addition to multiple birthday parties, I think it was Urban Recreation Day because the hooligans were there by the busload. And of course, none of them could skate so the rink was a minefield of inner city limbs. It calmed down a bit after awhile though; I’m not sure if the kids gave up and left or if their lo-jacks were sounding off.

Laura fell before she even made it onto the rink and I am so disappointed that I missed it. Henry got to see it though and I hope that he laughed at her, but knowing Henry, he probably dove into Real American Hero mode and offered to help her up.

Henry and I are so different.

Chooch and I do this awesome thing where we ditch Henry at the skate counter and then he has to carry an entire bushel of quads back to us. (And I always sit as far away as possible, allowing for the utmost chances of jutted feet for him to trip over as he weaves and winds his way down to me. It’s my duty, and I do it well.)

My friend Shawn recently moved back to the area last year and I managed to con him and his two little girls, Cosi and Anais, to come out for some afternoon skate action. In addition to spending quality time with his kid, the fact that he knew he would be subject to relentless guilt-tripping and puppy dog-eyeing from me might have factored in as well. Cosi thought I worked there because I’m so fantastic.

Chooch’s reaction when he saw the GIRLS.

I had to bribe him with ice cream to get him to pose for this picture.

There was a new rink ref there that day. His name is Joe and I believe he’s one of the Jammers, a group of local skaters who skate better than you. Oh shit, my crush inflated like J-Woww’s jugs as soon as I saw his smooth moves. Plus, there was nothing annoying, creepy or offensive about him! I know this because Roller Creep was there again so I got a pretty telling side-by-side comparison.

I call this portion of the story: Erin’s Big Fall

It was rough waters out there that day. Roller DJ and I have differing opinions on this subject, but I think that sharing a rink with children is pretty much the worst thing ever to have to do with skates on. This might have a lot to do with the fact that I generally do not approve of the presence of children anywhere, though. Roller DJ thinks it’s So Important for everyone to skate together with no segregation because it’s the amazing people like me who inspire children to want to get better (or learn at all). Brother, I don’t ever see a fucking child looking up to an adult in awe; I see asshole children creating moving slaloms for me, impetuously changing direction and purposely throwing themselves down on the floor to be “funny.”

But I braved that sea of pinwheeling kinder-limbs with my normal bravado, and even when Chooch and I were couple-skating* and Chooch fell, causing me and another couple to collide into the wall, my feet didn’t leave the ground.

*(He couple skate-blocked Henry and would only let me skate with him;even when it was Lady’s Choice, he picked for me! Oh well, at least I finally got to couple skate to “Broken Wings”! With my 5-year-old! How romantic!)

It wasn’t until later in the session that it happened. We were packed in like sardines on that fucking rink and I found myself trapped in the most congested area of all. I’m moderately good at the whole bob and weave aspect of roller skating, but sometimes I choke. At this particular moment, I needed the fucking Heimlich. A small child in front of me started to go down. I saw it as if it were playing out in slow-motion but there was nothing I could do; I was blocked on both sides and my reflexes atrophied. Before I knew it, I was skating right into a tangled child. And of course this would happen on the one day my friends actually came out to watch me be a dream on wheels.

This was it, the moment I had been dreading since I started roller skating again as an adult: I was going to break my hip, splinter my pride, split my pants: one if not ALL of these things were going to happen in 3…2…

I landed on one knee and one hand and in one quick motion, I sprung myself back up. JUST LIKE THEY DO IN HOCKEY YOU GUYS. Oh, the grace that was displayed! It would have made an angel flush with envy.

I even asked the kid if it was alright.

Then I skated it off like it never happened, all the while scanning the rink for Henry.

“DID YOU SEE ME FALL?” I cried out after finally spotting him later.

“What? No. It must have happened when I was in the bathroom.”

“Did you see me fall?” I asked Laura, who shook her head side-to-side. Shawn missed it too.

“NO ONE SAW MY AMAZINGLY GRACEFUL RECOVERY?

” I wailed. It would fucking figure!

Amazing recovery aside, it still sucks to wipe out as an adult. My No Fall Streak is done-zo. I wish now that I could remember what song was playing, but I totally can’t. I’m sure one day when I’m listening to the radio and find myself awash with sudden shame, I will know that that was the song soundtracking my Big Fall.

Hokey Pokey Party Foul

Roller DJ plays the Hokey Pokey every week; you can laugh all you want, but that shit is fucking fun. I was excited that Shawn and Laura were there that day, so we could all laugh and put our backsides in together like it’s 1974 and Henry’s outlook on life is current. However, Laura shook her head in fright and the rest of them were nowhere in sight, so I skated out alone and joined the oblong people-circle.

Surely Henry and Chooch will join me, I thought.

The circle stretched into an even more oblong-shape as more people came out to turn themselves around.

But still no Henry and Chooch.

Roller DJ started the song.

Still no motherfucking Henry and Chooch.

There is something exceptionally pathetic and slightly embarrassing about being a grown-up and doing the Hokey Pokey alone. Sure, there was a rinkful of families out there with me, but I had no child of my own to exchange sidelong glances and giggles with. I mean, I tried it once, looked to my left and made eye contact with a little girl who did not return my smile, unless turning her eyes into saucers of STRANGER DANGER  is how she expresses happy camaraderie with her Hokey Pokey neighbor; I turned to my right only to see some mom videotaping her son who was right next to me, so let’s hear it for Erin doing the Hokey Pokey on some asshole’s family video tape.

Even still, I put my whole self in with some motherfucking gusto.

Henry’s New Name

Henry is off the rink more than he’s on it. He’s always wandering off, holding the owner, Jim, chat-hostage or talking to Paul, the rink ref. I can’t imagine what he talks to them about, installing Faygo machines? The Andy Griffith Show? Kristy McNichol coming out as a lesbian? Who the fuck knows! But it’s kind of creepy and who knew a roller rink would turn Henry into a social butterfly.

(You know who he never talks to though? Roller DJ. Probably because I already claimed him.)

“Jim’s wife just asked me if I ever smile,” Henry laughed, catching up to me on the rink. (Which is where you will almost always find me, considering that is what I pay to do.)

“Who the fuck is Jim?” I asked, annoyed that I had to slow my stride to have my brain freeze-dried by Henry.

“Uh, the owner,” he reminded me with indignance.

“Ok…?” I said, waiting to be disappointed by yet another No-Climax episode with Henry.

“Anyway, she said Robin told her she could make me smile,” he laughed, clearly flattered that someone would make a flirtatious remark about his non-descript self. I felt my face flare up with The Flames of Jealousy.

“Who’s Ro—” I started, but Henry, knowing that I never pay attention to this shit, was ready for it.

“One of the rink refs,” he sighed. Once I placed her, all my jealousy went back to funneling intself toward Jennifer Aniston’s hair and whichever skank Jonny Craig is presently using as a penis-cosy.

“Jim’s wife said she’s going to call me Smiley now,” Henry went on, smiling and shaking his head. God, go tell your mommy about it.

I will say though, that it is pretty cool to go there every week and have all these guys saying hello and looking all happy to see us. It’s starting to feel like a second home, like we might actually BELONG somewhere!

Post-skating sundae.

[Ed.Note: I apologize if my posts have been even more grammar-erratic than usual lately. We haven’t had Internet at the house for a week now, thanks to Verizon fucking with the telephone pole.

Comcast was supposed to come today but they did NOT and you better believe I want my bill adjusted. Anyway, I have been posting from my phone and sometimes from work, although I have actually had real work to do! I’ve been trying to finish this particular post since last Wednesday. Life is hard, you guys.]