I fell. I jumped. I slipped. I tripped. Multiply that threefold and you’ll get a rough idea of how I spent my Friday night. Bruises all over my body. Damn. Exciting stuff! I can see why skaters skate. It’s fun, like riding a bike without using your hands. Immense adrenaline rush...
She handed me the skateboard and told me to bend my right knee. I wasn’t that bad (as I was later told). I managed to stand on that piece of wood with wheels, manoeuvring my way through Reading’s crowd of bemused and tired night-life dwellers. The Alehouse old folk found my crude attempts very amusing, as did I. Sitting outside with their pints of beer, safe in the knowledge that they were enclosed by a fence, the old guys cheered me on. She laughed. Sporting a ridiculous leopard fur coat and a red hat, she resembled something kitschy and hoboesque, like Jolie in Hackers, but there was something whimsical, too. She looked absolutely ridiculous on that skateboard. All the more motivation for me; if she can do it with that weight on her shoulders, then so can I!
As it usually happens, there were casualties. An old granny was unfortunate enough to pass me by when I sent the skateboard flying her way... She turned grumpy very quickly. Now I see why people hate skaters. The granny was probably from Eastern Europe, as I understood some of her more vicious rambling. I was sincerely sorry and frightened of her and what she could’ve done to me, physically! I solemnly give a promise to myself to never skate in public until I have mastered this art in desolate parking lots and skateparks.
That’s all, folks!
$root - whoami shit skater
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