My actual skates. I keep them for parties and stuff. No, seriously.
The other day I was attempting to parlay these NBC segments I’m doing into a piece for a national magazine. As I typed away, touting myself as an “expert,” trying to seem way more important than I actually am, and rambling on about my amazing qualifications to an Editor in Chief (whom I shouldn’t have been writing directly in the first place), Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue”came on and I was immediately transported to Cockeysville, SKATELAND circa 1984.
It was Girl’s Skate and the disco lights had taken over the floor.
Now, if you’re unfamiliar with roller skate culture, Girl’s Skate is the precursor to Couple’s Skate. During Girl’s Skate, your job, as a girl, is to look as totally awesome as possible. You have to rock your off the shoulder shirt with puffy splatter paint detail, your acid washed jean skirt, and those high striped socks.
The boys watch from around the rink and if they likes what they sees, they put out a hand for you to slap. The hand out also implies that they would like to Couples Skate with you. If you think the boy is cute, you slap his outstretched arm, but if you think he’s too dorky, you hold your hand close to your body in an overly dramatic acknowledgment that you would rather be caught dead than be seen skating with him.
Yep, it’s an exercise in fostering self esteem.
On this particular day, I had my eye on a very cute older boy; he may have even been a preteen! I spotted him from across the crowded rink, as my dad laced up his skates trying to catch up to my speedy entrance.
Oh, I didn’t mention that my dad skated with me every week? How could I forget that detail, this story is about how cool and awesome I was, right?
There I was, doing my best tricks:
- The speed up and glide.
- The crouch down and stick one leg forward.
- The professional leg cross weave around the corners.
I looked around at the outstretched arms, while Electric Avenue played in the background. As a sensitive kid, I was an equal opportunity slapper. So, I’d slap the hand of anyone that put it out there. Well, unless they were super nerdy and everyone else was avoiding them, obviously! You just know those are the ones who went home and comforted themselves with their Star Wars figurines or made “kill lists.”
Then I spotted him, that cute preteen. He looked bad. I mean, good — bad. He probably drove there on his motorized dirt bike. Skates hanging from the handle bars and a switchblade style comb in his back pocket. He was definitely from the other side of the tracks. You know, like Matt Dillon in Little Darlings or Kelly from The Bad News Bears.
I noticed that he wasn’t really offering his hand to too many girls and in a defensive action, started to skate towards the middle.
As I got closer, he did it. He eyed me and then threw out his hand. Holy crap, that’s for me and now I’m so far on the inside I’ll never make it, and then we won’t get to Couples Skate. I won’t be able to hold his hand, which I’m sure will be cool and big, not small and sweaty, like the other boys I always couples skated with. He may even be good enough to do the envied backwards hands on hips skate! My life is officially over.
Move Jenny, move!
I weaved through a few slow girls and reached as far as I could to touch even a fingertip. Then in a crushing blow he pulled his hand back and pretending to slick his hair. Holy shit, he gave me the “psyyyyych,” before the “psych” was actually invented!
To add insult to injury, or in this case, injury to insult, my arm had overstretched to meet his teasing gesture. I felt myself going down. Think slo-mo in some cheesy 80’s film, “Ohhhh Nnnoooo.” I grabbed at the wall to pull myself in and slammed straight into it. Not being able to stop there as the sheer force was too great, I then ricocheted off, and slapped to the ground.
Yep, COOL, I was! (if you say that with a Yoda accent, it has the truest effect.)
I got up quickly and ran to the bathroom to cry in a stall, while Couple’s Skate started without me. Seriously, it just began like normal, as if the most horrifying incident had not just occurred on that concrete slab of rejection.
I remember the song perfectly, it was Air Supply’s, “All Out of Love” or maybe Journey’s “Open Arms,” or some ballad by Foreigner or Styx. I also remember the pain. Oh, the pain and the “uncoolness.”
Apparently, you can’t get too cocky in Cockeysville or anywhere, ’cause someone will put you right back in your insecure, struggling, awkward place… where you belong. Unfortunately, I’ve been put in my place more times than I care to remember.
Even as an adult, a simple song can bring back an experience that sends you to rock in a corner. I guess you’re supposed to dust yourself off and get back in the ring — I mean, rink.
Dear Editor in Cheif- I’m a kick ass writer and I’m not half bad on a pair of skates…
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PS- if you made it this far… here’s one of the NBC pieces I was attempting to parlay:
Life wouldn’t be complete without some of these embarrassing moments. Good times!
True, though it’s usually more enjoyable to watch other people’s!
How and why did Air Supply always make me so emo at the skating rink only? I could hear “all out of love” at any other place on earth and not give 2 shits. But, at Skate King in Seattle, slow skating (usually by myself during the Snowball) it was as if I was having Kirk Cameron and or C. Thomas Howell or Balthazar Getty orrrrrrrrrrrr Donnie Wahlberg pour bath salts into my wounds and using the ” its not you, its me or let’s just be friends” line. Damn you Air Supply. Don’t EVEN get me started on ” Drive” by the Cars.
I am cringing for you!!! And, maybe the reason I never got asked to couples skate was because I was unaware of this particular ritual…at least, that’s why I’d like to THINK I never got asked to couples skate. :-/
Aliza- it’s definitely why. Well, that or you weren’t awesomely cool enough to carry a comb with your name on it in your back pocket! Either way, I said it’s a win for you.
I too was a rollerskate reject and broke out in a cold sweat when my kids asked to have a roller skating b-day party at the local rink (and why do they even still have those things around??). Thank you for taking me back to what was without a doubt one of the most mortifying times of my tween years. I never got “psyched” by a uber-cool dude on the roller circuit, but that was only because I could barely stand in the stupid things, much less circle the rink for a hand slap.
You may want to consider yourself lucky!!!
That. Was. Awesome.
I surely can’t write anything witty or relevant, I’m laughing too too hard. Awesome fail, thanks so much for sharing it for our amusement!
My pleasure. If only they had the term FAIL back then? It would just be a picture of me face down on the overpolished wood flooring.
So funny Jenny!!
This was mortifyingly funny. If only I had known, I would have consoled you…but you wouldn’t really want consolement from a parent at that stage anyway. I too have had those mortifying experiences, especially with someone you had a mild crush on. Well you can share this with your daughter when the time is right. Luv ya
First of all, Cockeysville, MD? There can only be 1 Cockeysville. I grew up in York, PA right up the road from there. Second, bad boys like that usually end of in juvie or in the stony lonesome later in life. Count your lucky stars girl!!!!
Yes, the infamous Cockeyville Md.
Deb- it’s not like I was gonna marry him I just wanted a skate and maybe for him to show me how his comb snaps out. In hind sight, how bad can you be when you spend your Sunday afternoons roller skating?
Ahahaha! You’re hysterical! So many awful memories of being dissed at the roller rink in the 70′s… I’m glad i’m not alone!
Nope Jodi – roller rinks were the places where embarrassing memories were made, simply by getting dressed.
I remember a painful Couples Skate moment at my roller rink to “Purple Rain” that was preceded by Pointer Sisters “I’m So Excited”
Loved your post!
OH MY GAWD! I just heard Poison playing! I totally could do all those moves, except for the backwards skate! You know what you need to do? Stalk him on Facebook. I am sure he is a fat loser with 8 kids and 7 baby mommas working as one of those sign holding guys that stands on the corner and advertises for subway.
Please- Julia – you give him too much credit. He definitely held up a 7-11 or something and often wears an orange jumpsuit on the weekends.
Yes, many tears were shed on those shines concrete and over varnished wood floors!
I so remember the roller skating days and all the moves.
Except I did not slap hands because I was to engrossed in playing Madonna circa Desperately Seeking Susan
FAB segment btw — makes me want to have a baby – not really.
Is roller rink rejection the reason why there aren’t many roller rinks anymore?
Jenny,
I’m so sorry you had to bare the pain but it did make you stronger. Now you’re just way too cool. The comeuppance just sharpened you tools. Amazing job on the video!!!
Not so funny. I’m glad I didn’t know what was going happening. Kinda makes me sad to read the story. Had I known what was going on I would have been proactively violent and maybe broken his COMB. L. U.
Kristin he would do it too! Dad I’m still laughing from your comment. No one messes with your girl. Not if they want to have a manageable mullet.
OMG I have a huge crush on your dad. I love a man who is willing to break a comb for his daughter’s honor! GO Jenny’s Dad!!!
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You are a good, no excellent, storyteller. NBC or whoever else would be idiots not to hire you to write for them.
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I see where your dad read the story and feels anger toward the guy, which gives a different perspective and even more richness to the excellent story. Are you a novelist? If not, you should be.
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