A while back I posted about an upcoming trip to Superior Wisconsin; a birthday jaunt where my twin sister and I were going to celebrate another year alive and well. The apogee (such a fun word meaning climax, peak, or the highest point – add it to your vocab and enjoy) would be reliving our 8th-grade versions of rollerskating at a legit rink (not my particle-board barn floor) called World of Wheels. Well, we did it.
We planned our birthday trip around Friday night adult skating. We figured that was the safest time for us to lace up 5-pound skates and wobble around the rink; no kids to run over or into. We were right.
What we, umm I, was wrong about was building up my confidence.
The DJ/semi-professional skater had a sign-up sheet for song requests. Meatloaf signed up and within the hour his vampire video and song were played. I skated and sang while my sister, who was on a break, watched, laughed, and inwardly (and outwardly) cringed at my antics.
At about the fifteenth or sixteenth time around, I had made the adjustments like a pro. My legs were slightly bent to make for better skating and my left foot took the lead on turns while my right foot completed slight wiggles to assist. My confidence was soaring, my hair was flowing breezily behind me, and my eyes weren’t trained on my skates. I was feeling so alive! So 8th-grader-like!
If our DJ had actual records, this next moment would have been a giant screech of music coming to a halt. Much like my body did. Hard impact.
No one can say for sure if my skates were faulty or if my wheels collided or if I was pushed. Well, we can actually eliminate being pushed, can’t we. That seems far-fetched at a skating rink.
What we know for certain is the sound my body made when it hit the floor, the position my body was in for a good twenty seconds before I “popped” up, and the amount of laughter that ensued after I went down. Besides my sister, one person asked if I was okay. As soon as Alicia said, “yes, she’s fine”, he burst into laughter. And it was funny; I was laughing, partly because falling is always funny, but more because I was so embarrassed. My god, roll me off the floor into a corner, please!
Instead, I drug myself up and off the rink, found a bench away from prying eyes, and nursed my wounds.
Bruise on my left knee, bruise and a giant skin burn on my right knee, and let’s not forget, a bruised ego. One giant bruise, COMING THROUGH PEOPLE!
We sat for a good ten minutes, laughing and reliving the “Fall heard and seen by all” and then resumed skating like nothing had happened. I mean, come on, Meatloaf would have gotten back on the horse in the name of love.
I don’t have any pictures of my wounds, but I do have one that encompasses how awesome this place was. The only video I shot was after my crash to the floor, and it was of Alicia, unscathed and upright. Not worth adding to the post – she would vote “nay” on that addition.
It definitely was a memorable event for our yearly trip. No guarantees we will carve out time for this on our next birthday party, but who knows? I’ve got skates here and time to practice my skills.
I still have one question though. What the hell wouldn’t Meatloaf do for love?
Hoss & Weasel 