When I worked as a court clerk in Amarillo, that statement above usually indicated to me that a good story was emerging and I should sit back for a moment from my note-taking. Most of the stories were pretty inventive (Southerners are born story tellers) and some needed work. The reason I bring this up now is because I have a story.
After Observational Drawing on Wednesday, my classmate, Cody, asked for a ride back to the dorms where he lives. Even though it's in the opposite direction from my house, I don't mind; it's only a few miles. "But," I said. "We're listening to 80's tunes." He laughed and said "Yes!" He's 18, he thinks the 80's are cool. At the stoplight, my friend Nick (the 19 year-old who yelled at me for driving around downtown Dallas at night by myself; I still think it's cute that he was concerned) pulled up next to us and rolled down the window. "Hey, you got your skates?" he asked.
Cody shouted back "No."
"Not you-Vicki. Hey V, you got your skates?"
I looked over. "Yeah but you're not gonna wear them."
He laughed. "No, let's go skate on the trail I was telling you about. I got my longboard." He jerked his head to the side to swish his long hair away from his eyes.
"Okay." I said, turning up the M.C. Hammer song playing on my All 80's station.
"Cool. Follow me."
I looked at Cody. "Why do I have to follow him? I know where you guys live."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
So we get to the garage at the dorms to drop off Cody and to leave my car. I pull on my skates and stand up, balancing. Nick rolls over on his longboard and says, "Whoa. You gonna make it?"
"Relax. I got this."
We start down the sidewalk, cross the street and start heading downhill. At that point I should have crouched down, but I stayed up instead. Then a set of railroad tracks appeared and I thought, "I can jump that." I had jumped things before...several years ago.
Yeah I didn't make it.
I landed on my right wrist, of course. That was it. No bumps, scratches; forehead was intact, nothing broken. Nick freaked out though and came running over. "Oh my God! Are you okay?!"
I laughed, got up, brushed the dirt off my pants and said "Dude, I'm fine." I lifted my arms. "See?"
"Don't do that."
"Don't put any railroad tracks in my way."
We skated past the train stop to the Angelika Theater where I walked down the stairs on my toe-stops. When we got to a steep hill toward the crosswalk, Nick turned to me and said, "You better hold on to me." After my last stunt, I had to agree with him. I took his arm since I didn't want to end up in the middle of a six-lane intersection. My wrist was starting to feel sore.
Once we got to the trail, everything was pretty smooth. Most of the people were jogging. Of those who were biking, most of those bastards rode like they were on a mission, yelling "On your left!" as they whizzed past us.
Nick was doing a switch-foot trick on his board and I asked him, "Are people staring at me because I'm the only one wearing old-school skates or because I'm old?"
He looked at me and said "I think it's because of that awesome black Pea Coat you"re wearing."
"You're a nerd."
When we finally stopped about two and a half miles or so, I went to adjust my skate laces. That's when I realized something was seriously wrong with my wrist because, wow, it hurt when I yanked on the laces.
"Nick! Give me piggy-back ride."
"What?"
"My wrist hurts. I don't think I should skate anymore in case I fall. I didn't bring my shoes."
"Walk in your socks."
"Walk in my socks?" I scrunched my eyebrows.
"We'll go back. Take my shoes."
So he longboarded for a ways in his socks and I clomped along in his big man-feet shoes. I said "How do I look?"
He said "Everyone looks good in those shoes."
On the way back we shared stories. He told me about his ex-girlfriend moving to Australia and I told him about the time my friend April and I snuck into the Shania Twain concert.
"Who?" he asked.
"She's a country singer from Oklahoma, like you. You don't know her?"
"Do you know everybody in North Carolina?"
I gave him an incredulous look. "Uh, yeah."
He laughed.
We got back to the garage and I found my car. "Ah my salvation! See ya later." I said.
"Bye. Sorry you fell."
"I'll be okay. I live with a nurse and a pharmacist."
Well that's the story about what happened to my wrist. I'm doing everything left-handed: eating, going potty, brushing my teeth, fixing my hair. I even put on makeup yesterday left-handed. good thing I had been practicing using my left hand for cases such as this. I mean, you never know. Comedian
Kathleen Madigan once told her brother that her financial plan was to learn to write with her left hand. "Not gonna get any money from the bank if you can't sign that check...who's laughing now?"
Okay, so here's a test for you. Don't worry, it's not being graded. I had to finish my class assignment yesterday drawing with my left hand. See if you can pick out which ones are lefties and which ones are righties.
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| the check marks only show which ones my teacher picked for me to ink up in a larger scale |
