(Why is Jesus in the subject field?  To get by my uncle's spam filter.)

IN WHICH Merchandise Is (Perhaps Immorally) Sold By Minors For A Huge Profit And Spent In Riotous Living, I Am Coerced Into Roller Skating, I Give Up Skating, I Am Coerced Again Into Roller Skating, I Get Lessons In Skating From A 14-Year-Old With Very Little On, I Am Coerced Into Going Onto The Big Roller Skating Floor, I Run Into A Wall Very Hard, AND I Don't Fall Down Very Much.

Jason was rather intent on seeing me roller skate, and Josh tells me that he wasn't with us the first time I got the skates.  As I was trying to decide whether I should do it, one of the little kids came over and asked to borrow some money.  Our policy is always to say no, because then everyone will immediately want some money, even the guy in the corner who thinks I want to steal his girlfriend.

"But we need to make some stickers!  There's a booth in the corner where you can get a picture taken and then it'll print stickers with your picture and whatever you want it to say!"

We still weren't going to give him any money.  We knew they all had come with quite a bit, and they had spent it at the other activities.  Someone (maybe Jason) suggested that if they wanted money, they should try to sell something.  I think he figured they didn't have anything to sell, and that even if they did, no one would have the money to buy it.

Jay finally convinced me to go over and get some skates, although I didn't promise him that I would actually skate with them.  I walked up to the counter with him and asked for size 13, hoping they didn't have them.  Unfortunately, the nice, smiling girl behind the counter said they did have a pair and took my shoe.  She came back with the huge skates.  "I'm going to need your other shoe," she said.  "Oh.  You want both my shoes??"  I didn't know that.  There was really to be no margin of error with this skating stuff.  "I haven't skated in years," I told her.  "You might see me back here really soon."

I put the skates on and stepped on the carpet.  I didn't go anywhere.  I kind of slid around and managed to move back and forth between the two tables while the guy in the corner kept staring at me, probably now less out of anger and more out of a sick fascination.  "I guess I didn't have anything to fear from this guy to begin with," he no doubt thought to himself.  "In fact, he might be developmentally disabled."

By this time, Josh had joined Jason in watching my sick attempts.  Mike was also there, and not at all pleased that I was going to try to skate this time instead of just sitting around.  I decided to give up on this fruitless activity and quickly returned my skates to the counter when no one was looking.  The nice girl was very disappointed.  "Aww," she said.  "You're not going to give up, are you??"  "Yes, actually, I am," I told her, showing I have even less pride than I do skill.  "I'm very disappointed in you," she said half-sternly, half-jokingly.  "Yeah, I'm hearing that a lot," I told her.  She reluctantly gave me back my shoe, and then the other one too, but only after I made a point of asking for it.

Unfortunately, Jason and Josh quickly found me, and not wanting their night's source of entertainment to end so quickly, made me go back and get the skates.  The nice girl had moved to another place, replaced by a guy who frowned at me for making him work, but when she saw me with skates again, she was very happy.  "Oh, I'm so glad you're trying it again!  Don't give up!"  Josh told me I should try to get lessons from her.

After a few minutes of "skating" on the forgiving carpet, Josh pointed me to the little 10' kiddie corner where incompetent bumblers could practice before going out on the big floor.  Small children were over there, skating like Nancy Kerrigan or Mario Lemieux, depending on their gender.  I saw an eight-year-old boy do a triple axel and then get checked into the concrete wall.  Clearly, this practice area was out of my league.  But I was dragged there anyway, and most of the children quickly left when they realized that yes, I was six and a half feet tall, and yes, I had no control over where I was headed.

The only ones to stay while Jay and Josh tried to teach me how to move around were one small boy who kept darting past me as if it were some sort of game, and a skimpily dressed girl who sat on the edge and yelled instructions to me.  I bumped into the boy on purpose once and he left me alone.  But the girl got more and more brazen, at one point, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind her at a rapidly increasing rate of speed while loudly encouraging me to "push off."  Thankfully, we were interrupted by the appearance of our sticker-bearing friends, who were eager to show off their newest purchase.

"How did you guys buy those?," Mike asked incredulously.

"We sold Little Gary's Jets football."  I'm not exactly sure of the details - Mike and Jay, I think, remember better than me - but this kid had a little Jets football doll thing, and when they were encouraged to sell something, that's what they settled on.  And it worked!  I think they got $8 for it!  So they all went inside the photo booth, put on their 'tough' faces, and printed out a bunch of stickers with "Back Off" or something equally combative printed on them.  They were really quite intense.  This was clearly the most ghetto youth group at the rink.  They watched me skate for a little while with open mouths.

"I think you're getting it," said Jay.  "It's time to move to the big rink."  I was kind of getting sick of the practice area anyway, but I wanted to rest for a little while at the table.  When you aren't any good at balancing on skates, your back does all the work and really starts to hurt.  Mike, realizing I was actually going to continue this farce, volunteered to go to the store and pick up some beverages for us.

	The height of grace and elegance

I went out there with Jason, who promptly abandoned me to skate backwards, do handstands, backflip off the wall, and other advanced tricks.  I went very slowly.  Small children passed me, sometimes several times.  This was a whole lot better, though, than ice skating last year, where I had to guide myself along using the plexiglass wall and made a lot of people very impatient.  I didn't use the wall at all.  I just barely moved.  Josh took a picture of me one of the times when I went around.  I have a very intense look on my face, as I concentrate on the ground, and my arms are out by my sides, helping to stabilize my pathetic attempts to "push off," as the pushy girl had said.

One lap tired me out, but I surprised Jason and Josh, who expected me to give up quickly.  I continued to go around, and improved to such an extent that I still wasn't very good.  The nice girl was very happy that I was skating, though, and she said I was doing very well for not having skated in so many years, but I'm pretty sure she went back to the skating booth and told the frowning guy to turn the surveillance cameras on, to make sure they got as many shots of me as possible for the outtakes of their promotional video.

Suddenly, her and another guy came out on the rink and announced it was time for games.  Uh oh.  I was at the other end of the rink.  It took me forever to get out of the way.  By that time, the limbo - the first game - had already started.  I can't limbo under any circumstances, so I got right out of there.  The second game was a relay race, though, where you had to push a partner one way and then have them push you the second time.  Our thought was that Jay would pull me the first time (while it looked like I was pushing him) and then I'd get down and he'd push me.

When he took off to pull me, my legs went in different directions and I fell for the first (and only?  I think...) time of the night.  I tried to get up, but found it very hard.  6-year-olds were at the other end, turning around.  Time was of the essence.  Finally I managed to get up and we limped to the other side.  Most everyone had finished both ways.  I crouched down and Jay started to push.  Things started to go by very fast.  I noticed the wall approaching.  I had no idea how to stop.  Luckily, everyone was getting out of our way, so my progress into the wall was not hindered in any way.  It knocked me to the ground quickly and with some force, though.  "Do we get anything for coming in last?," I asked the nice girl, who was handing out candy and prizes.  "Of course!," she said, and handed me a Cow Tail.

I hate Cow Tails.

TO BE CONTINUED

NHS Speech

"My View" Editorial

The October Surprise
|  Round 1 |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |
|  11  |  12  |  Final Bell  |

Journey to Jersey II
|  Intro  |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |

Journey to Jersey I
|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |   6  |  7  |  8  |
|  9  |  10  |  11  |  12  |  13  |  14  |
|  15  |  16  |  17  |  18  |  19  |  20  |

An Epic Saga
|  Act  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |  16  |

Christian Rock Email

Freshman Room Draw
|  Part One  |  Two  |
|  Three  |  Four  |  Five  |