Skateboarding vs Relationships- from Kingpin 2004
So: it was just Ruby and I left at the
gap. Both of us had got within a whisker of our respective attempts; the kind
of maddening almost-s that keep you there after everyone else has become bored
and drifted off in search of refreshments, papers and fast food.
But not Ruby and I; we were going head to head until death or shinners. At the back of my mind I was aware that time was marching on and I had some kind of engagement back in the real world, but
a) I couldn't quite recall what, and
b) It couldn't have been as important as this backside nollie down the Smyth Street Widowmaker, because nothing in life was or ever could be, right?
So we slugged it out for many more rounds than I care to remember before eventually we had stuck both tricks. Horribly, with wheelbite, toe drags and all the rest of it - but we stuck them nonetheless.
But not Ruby and I; we were going head to head until death or shinners. At the back of my mind I was aware that time was marching on and I had some kind of engagement back in the real world, but
a) I couldn't quite recall what, and
b) It couldn't have been as important as this backside nollie down the Smyth Street Widowmaker, because nothing in life was or ever could be, right?
So we slugged it out for many more rounds than I care to remember before eventually we had stuck both tricks. Horribly, with wheelbite, toe drags and all the rest of it - but we stuck them nonetheless.
And then she walked in.
With a plunging heart I saw Julie's little Ford Fiesta take the
corner and skulk moodily down Smyth Street. If that car had ears, steam would
surely have been coming out of them.
Julie was a really nice girl. I mean, she was a bit of a salad, a bit meek and inoffensive, but perfectly pleasant and she quite liked skating. Which is to say, she liked kickflips, and warmed to us because we weren't everyday people talking about cars and football and Nike trainers and E's. We were interested in styles, and colours and aesthetics and who had the Best Heelflip In The Whole World.
Unfortunately, Julie quickly discovered that we weren't playing games here. My obsession with skating extended beyond mere conversation and Saturday afternoons, and would, in fact, lead me to treat everything else in life - friends, lovers and family - as second fiddle to being out there jumping up and down stuff all day, every day.
And so she came to understand that any dry day was non-negotiable, that I would be distracted and twitchy when doing civilian things, that you can't hold hands with bruised palms and that I had a disturbing interest in knee-height ledges outside provincial cinemas. In short, she got a lot more heartache and a lot less of me than she had bargained for; and it all came to a head that Sunday on Smyth Street. Wordlessly, she pulled up and swung the passenger door open, glowering.
So THAT was what I was supposed to be doing. No charm offensive was going to dig me out of this hole. I shrugged to Ruby, who wisely had seen which way the wind was blowing on this one and was studying his feet sheepishly. I climbed in and closed the door as she pulled away, incandescent with rage.
"You-were-supposed-to-meet-me-two-hours-ago" she spat through clenched teeth.
I gestured back over my shoulder - "I just backside nollied that".
The car stopped abruptly and she reached across my lap. I'd just thought "Kinky...a bit previous, but I'll allow it this once-" when she opened the passenger door, pivoted on her seat and with both feet against my side pushed me onto the road with all her might. Then she drove off wordlessly, and with the door still open.
I picked myself off Smyth Street - that was my sore hip and all - and wandered back down to the gap having struck another relationship off.
Ruby was getting close to frontside flips.
Julie was a really nice girl. I mean, she was a bit of a salad, a bit meek and inoffensive, but perfectly pleasant and she quite liked skating. Which is to say, she liked kickflips, and warmed to us because we weren't everyday people talking about cars and football and Nike trainers and E's. We were interested in styles, and colours and aesthetics and who had the Best Heelflip In The Whole World.
Unfortunately, Julie quickly discovered that we weren't playing games here. My obsession with skating extended beyond mere conversation and Saturday afternoons, and would, in fact, lead me to treat everything else in life - friends, lovers and family - as second fiddle to being out there jumping up and down stuff all day, every day.
And so she came to understand that any dry day was non-negotiable, that I would be distracted and twitchy when doing civilian things, that you can't hold hands with bruised palms and that I had a disturbing interest in knee-height ledges outside provincial cinemas. In short, she got a lot more heartache and a lot less of me than she had bargained for; and it all came to a head that Sunday on Smyth Street. Wordlessly, she pulled up and swung the passenger door open, glowering.
So THAT was what I was supposed to be doing. No charm offensive was going to dig me out of this hole. I shrugged to Ruby, who wisely had seen which way the wind was blowing on this one and was studying his feet sheepishly. I climbed in and closed the door as she pulled away, incandescent with rage.
"You-were-supposed-to-meet-me-two-hours-ago" she spat through clenched teeth.
I gestured back over my shoulder - "I just backside nollied that".
The car stopped abruptly and she reached across my lap. I'd just thought "Kinky...a bit previous, but I'll allow it this once-" when she opened the passenger door, pivoted on her seat and with both feet against my side pushed me onto the road with all her might. Then she drove off wordlessly, and with the door still open.
I picked myself off Smyth Street - that was my sore hip and all - and wandered back down to the gap having struck another relationship off.
Ruby was getting close to frontside flips.
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