All Skate! All Skate!

It’s raining. I’m standing in line with a huge crowd like I’m at a hot new club, but instead of sleazy wannabes and whored out women I’m surround by junior highers and a few scattered chaperones. I’m at the roller rink. I can’t wait to get in. The chaperones ogle me because it’s fairly obvious I don’t fit in either group (Note: I thought these people were chaperones, but when the rink was cleared for advanced skaters and they glided out with ease I realized they hung out there).
I was meeting a new group of friends there for a fun friday night adventure. But so far I was the only one there over 14 and under 40. I looked around for my friends casually and noticed the young couple behind me (Rollerskating dates! Cute!) were looking at me with extreme pity. I suddenly was jettisoned back to Junior high where the worst thing in the world was being ditched. Old thoughts wandered back into my head. Do they think I’m pretty? Where are my friends? I look like a loser.
I slap myself silly in my mind and remind myself that I’m 34 years old and no longer need to impress the cool kids. When I kick ass on that rink, I’m doing it for myself not Brandon in eighth grade who laughed at my perm. Though if he was there, he’d frickin’ die to couple skate with me. So there Brandon.
When I near the front I find a familiar face (Take that, couple behind me that thinks I’m a loser). We talk excitedly about how it’s been twenty years since we’ve done this and as we put on our spray disinfected skates I begin to wonder if I can even do this anymore.
The rest of the group comes and we hit the rink. And it’s just like riding a bike. It’s pretty thrilling to tell you the truth. The wind in your hair. The speed. Justin Beiber. What more do we really need? I don’t know how to break, but hey slamming into the wall always worked before.
I remember when I’d go to birthday parties at the local rink as a kid and the birthday gal would get to ride in a giant skate around the rink. I wonder if they still do that?
“Couple skate!” The announcer says. “Pairs or triples only!”
I grab a couple of my new friends hands and sail off. I haven’t felt this free in a while.
The song ends and my friends and I part ways to skate at our own pace.
The referee whizzes by me.
“Keep it moving,” He says to a awkward boy hanging onto the wall.
Suddenly I feel a wave of sadness. I remember something else. I remember the loneliness I would feel when I was that age. I remember going to the rink so I wouldn’t feel that way anymore. I could blend in to the fast moving crowd and still be alone if I wanted, but with a roomful of people. I let that feeling take me over for a minute. I still feel that way sometimes of course. My troubles then were just... very different.
Then I fall into a fantasy I had countless times when I was 13: That a boy would want to skate with me.
It goes something like this-
Boy: Let’s face it. You’re the hottest girl in this place.
Me: You speak the truth.
Boy: Couples skate with me.
Me: You got balls kid.
Boy: So? You coming?
Me: Okay.
Meanwhile all his little friends are jealous and I’m giving him mad street cred. Well, that was an embarrassing part of my brain I just exposed you to. Have fun with that. I’m going to have to write that into something...
My friends and I spend hours skating to the latest pop hits. I was hoping for a throwback to rollerskating’s hay-day and hear a little “ Oh Mickey your so fine,” but no luck. There was plenty of Michael Jackson though.
“Clear the floor,” The announcer yells because some girls necklace broke and beads were everywhere.
As I leave, they are starting the Hokey Pokey. It’s nice to know some things never change.