Roller Skating 101

Here's my roller skating article/essay so far! Please let me know if you have suggestions for improvements, compliments, and/or thoughts of where I could get it published. Thank you!

Roller Skating 101

In the dark arena of hormones and wheels, there is a disco ball with disco music, cute boys whipping by, and lots of giggling with my girlfriends. Roller skating used to be what I did on Friday night in the 70's.

I felt as if I entered a time warp Thursday night at the roller rink. They call it Adult Skate Night, and I guess it is. It just seems so much like the exact same thing I had come to know as a kid. I think they might even be the same people.

Past memories rolled into present reality as I entered the lobby. Prince’s “1999” blasted through the walls. I was in a dream state until The Rules started seeping in. First, I must pay to play. And I cannot have gum. I must spit my gum into the large, clear container full of other’s various colors of gum. I must also sign a waiver that I am skating at my own risk. If one is way out of practice, as am I, one cannot get away from the showcase photos of expert rollers along the wall behind you and their super cool skates. I am pretty sure that I have in my possession what amounts to the kindergarten version of roller blades - excuse me, inline skates - since they ratchet and lock down, much like Velcro for shoes.

Now, one cannot just throw on skates and hop out there onto the floor. Well, not if you're like me. You must enter the general flow of skaters and go the same direction they are, at virtually the same speed. If you - as I - cannot do this, then you must stay in the outer portion of the lanes. This is much akin to the freeway, where the slower drivers should stick to the right hand lanes. If you choose not to do this, you will be reprimanded in a number of ways - including verbally - and also by people skating up behind you at seemingly lightning speeds and whipping around you as closely as possible.

Now, the reprimanding could still happen (even if you are on the outside) if you come to a complete stop. Do not come to a complete stop. Should this become an absolute necessity, please exit the rink and stop on the carpeted portion. Otherwise, take it from me, you are risking your backside and others'. This is like stopping on the freeway: even in the slow lane, it's a no-no. When “Funky Town” started playing, I decided to lean over the railing to tell a friend who was sitting down about how it was my favortie song when I was in 5th grade. It was at this time that the Skate Cop informed me that this was not permissable and that one must go atround the rail to talk. A pretty young thang in shorts that were smaller than some of my underwear thanked the Skate Cop profusely for correcting me as she glided around us. She is now referred to as the Skate Slut.

All right, here’s another possibility: you are going around the rink at your pace, on the outside, smiling, and laughing with your friends. Then you hear someone skid behind you as if to avoid colliding into you. They pass you. In another second or two, this happens again. And again. It is at this time that I learn that we are what are called "pylons," just as the name suggests. Much like the orange cones, people were having to slow and go around us. What complicated this issue was the fact that we were, as was described to me, “three people wide." Had I been skating like a pylon as a solo artist, it would have been easier to round me. Good to know.

For a while the lights were dim but on, and the music varied from Ozzy to Outcast. In some of the corners there were hip young men practicing choreographed skate-dancing. These, I know now, are part of the new sub-culture called Jam Skating. Some folks were in costume. One "regular," yup - just like at a bar - was extremely encouraging and helpful to my friend, a beginner as well.

Later, the lights got lower, the music louder, and this is when the roller derby girls and really fast guys showed up. Any remote amount of coolness that I thought I had was suddenly outshined. These women sported cut offs, skin tight, black leggings with sparkles, striped thigh high socks, and awesome wheels. Some had sleeveless tees to show off their tats. They glided around the rink as if their feet had never existed without skates on them. I was mesmerized. I picked out one woman with an ACDC concert shirt that I wished I could be. She had no fat on her legs, and they were toned in every place and way. When she skated it seemed as if she barely picked up her feet, and somehow just flew around the rink. She is now known as The Idol.

I continued to skittle around the corners in my quick baby step, pitched-forward kind of way. I felt like a soccer mom in my long sleeved t-shirt, short haircut, and Levi’s jeans.
Nonetheless, I was having fun! On the straight-aways, I could get my balance and stand up more. Sometimes I could actually pick one skate up and balance for a few seconds on the other one, rolling along. I wasn’t the only one; The Goddess, as we have come to name her, intermittently and freely let out a sort of yell and singing combo thing that was truly inspired and authentic.

The DJ came on and announced that it was time for couple’s skate or skating slowly backward. The DJ’s instructions are not to be crossed. It was lovely to hold my guy’s hand for a couple of songs and laugh with him!

Two hours rolled on by through the laughing and the scuttling. I improved a bit throughout the evening. I even worked up a sweat and needed water more than once.
The best thing? My legs and rear end were so sore the next day! I had really worked out hard when I thought I was just having fun. Oh, and my future roller derby girl name is Cherry Bomb. Just saying.