Derby Does a Number
As evidenced by this photo, derby is slowly permeating every corner of my life. At no time in my life would I ever have been trolling EBay for gifts and used Vespas and thought, "Nifty rainbow stripy sweatshirt with puffy tie-up sleeves. Must own. Now." Never in my life would I have received said technicolor sweatshirt and paired it with fuzzy maroon pants and little pig-knots in my hair. Not that I haven't fussed with funky fashion often, but more in the boots with skirt, giant hole in sweater, drawing on tee shirts, forgetting to shower for a week vein. Not so much the, "This kicky sequined bolero will match my shoelaces" school of shopping. Yet I am indeed armed with a kicky sequined bolero-ish/shruggish thing that looks like maybe it belongs on a 12-year-old jazz dancing her heart out at her year end recital to "Pump Up the Jam." Seriously, there's something about the dusty maple-wax odor of a rink that does crazy shit to your brain. As far as my skating prowess goes, I'm getting stronger and faster but suck balls at things like technique. Like backwards skating. Also stopping is a little dicey. Also every so often I lose my balance a little, like I do when I'm wheel-less. It sort of feels like what I imagine drunken-style fighting would feel like if I gulped down half a bottle of Jameson and decided to beat up our garage door. I just concentrate on building speed and try to ignore the songs I want to dance to, but shouldn't, lest I lose my footing completely.
Just a few more things derby has reaffirmed:
1. I have to meet people about thirteen times before I can actually make successful small talk.
2. All my shoes should be Velcro due to motor skills less developed than a four-year-old's.
3. I'm not very competitive with girls. I only compare myself with the best male in the room. Even if there's a woman who's better than he is, I applaud her ability and want to surpass his.
4. My face gets red with little to no exertion. A gorgeous shade provided by a combination of being horridly out of shape and fair-skinned.
2 Comments:
You Funny, Derby Girl.
Okay, it is very reassuring that I am not the only one trolling ebay for vespa scooters (even though I already have one in pieces in my basement) and where in the world did you get a kicky sequined bolero? Does it really match your shoelaces? I think we could base a derby team uniform on such an ensemble. Truly.
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