I haven’t had time to write about skating last Sunday, but then I realized that the only thing that actually happened was that I got stuck skate-talking to Roller Creep during four corners. It didn’t even matter that Chooch was with me; he just kept bragging and bragging about the fact that the rink gives him his own weekly show now (another reason to switch to Saturday sessions). He basically gets one song to do his static routine, while all the little girls who have never seen him before kneel on the carpeted benches and squeal in amazement.

Other than that, Henry’s bromance/rink owner was home sick that afternoon, so he moved on his son instead. The poor kid was behind the skate rental counter trying to tighten up bearings and here’s what appears to be a bear* on skates asking him all kinds of predatory questions.

(*And I don’t mean the animal.)

The one who dubbed Henry “Smiley.”

There was a lot of snow on the ground, with the threat for more, yesterday when we arrived at the rink. But there was still a line.

And people say roller skating is obsolete.

“What? These were cool in 1983!”

My work friend Joy came out with her fiancé John and three other friends, which pleased me. I love that damn rink so much and any time I can persuade people to stop by, I feel like I’ve won a small war on modern activities, like basket-weaving and Botox appointments.

Even Joy said, “This was great! It’s good, clean fun!” AND IT IS, even though some asshole finds ways to desecrate the wholesome family sentiments behind it by calling all the kids she hates dickheads and motherfuckers on her blog afterward, mocks her friends for falling, and has not-so-secret scandalous thoughts about the new rink ref.

I think Joy wanted me to point out that John bit it three times while she remained upright for the whole session. SHE DIDN’T DO THE YMCA THOUGH.

Speaking of, I always get performance anxiety during the YMCA. What if my C is backward?!

There is an adult skate coming up in two weeks and I’m determined to bring new recruits to that, too.

Chooch spent the rest of the day singing the Village People quietly to himself.

Better than Katy Perry.

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