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Living the Life of Holly
By Holly Winter
© 2004
That’s Not Disco

Lynn put her arm around me. “Holly. Thanks so much for coming to my birthday party.”

I maintained my balance. Um. Was I required to talk and move at the same time? Surely I’d hurt somebody. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” I said, working hard to stay on my feet. Left. Right. Left. Right.

“Hey. I want you to meet my mother. Look. She’s right up ahead.” Lynn smiled, picking up the pace.

Was she kidding? Picking up the pace? She reached out her hand, and I graciously accepted the gesture. My roller skating skills instantly improved and I wondered if Lynn would be willing to hold my hand during her entire disco roller skating birthday party.

It worried me that we were all returning to our childhood ways. My friend had wanted her forty-something birthday party at the roller rink, and I wanted someone to hold my hand while skating. What could this mean?

Lynn guided me over to her skating-accomplished mother. “Mom. This is Holly, Cool-guy’s girlfriend.”

Her mom turned to me. “So nice to meet you.”

Yeah. I wanted to stay and chat, but I wasn’t really sure how to slow down. Lynn took her arm off me and I was whirled into space. “See you later.” I called. How do people manage their way around the corners of the rink and why weren’t the walls padded? It would have been safer for all present if I could have practiced before everyone else had shown up. I needed privacy.

Cool-guy skated up to me. “Hey, pretty girl. Wanna skate together?”

“Um. Yes. No. Later. I’m still warming up.” I said, concentrating on not bumping into any of Lynn’s friends. Left. Right. Left. Right. I stumbled again, which reminded me why I’d dropped roller skating back in junior high school. Um. It’s hard and it’s dangerous and I’m horrible at it. Oh. I know. Left. Right. Left. Right. It sounds easy.

White-pants skated by at top speed. His white pants with the glow-in-the-dark stripe down the side shined in the dull rink lighting. He leapt into the air then crash landed with a hard clump. He laid twitching on the floor with his arms and legs flailing in every direction. I tried to stop rolling so I could crawl back to offer some weak first aide, but luckily for him, it wasn’t necessary. Seems his feeble moves were a clever attempt to show us his best break dancing moves.

“He planned that?” I gasped.

“Yeah. Isn’t he great?” Cool-guy laughed.

“You mean if I fall everyone will think I’m break dancing?”

Cool-guy was surprised. “You haven’t fallen yet?”

White-pants skated up to us, pulled out a comb, and re-parted his hair down the center. He carefully ‘feathered’ his hair on each side before he stuck the oversized comb into his back pocket.

“Where’d you learn to skate like that?” I teased. “Lessons?”

“Nope. I’m a natural.”

The birthday girl skated past us. She was the essence of grace on skates. She turned, whirled and danced around her friends. I’d never seen anyone so at home on roller skates.

“She’s amazing.” I said. “My skates are holding me hostage. I think her skates actually like her.”

“She’s the class.” White Pants said. “And I’m the clown.”

Cool-guy laughed. “You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

White-pant’s wife skated up. “I overheard some woman talking about you.” She said to her husband.

He nodded his head quickly. “Yeah. They were probably talking about how cute I am with my center part.” He took his comb out and re-combed the part, again.

Everyone laughed.

“No.” His wife started. “Actually they said, ‘Who is the jerk in the white pants? He’s going to hurt himself. How much is he drinking?”

Everyone laughed harder.

“What?” White-pants cried. “Drunk? This is the REAL me. I’ll show them!” He turned towards rink and skated top speed, jumping off the steps and landing in the circle of skaters with an audible thud.

I finished my glass of wine and rolled cautiously towards the rink.

Cool-guy caught me as I was about to enter the circle of skaters. “Honey. Give it up. Maybe you should accept the fact that you’re a watcher. Observers are hard to come by in the roller skating world.”

“No way.” I said. “A lady in the bathroom wanted to know where I learned my skating disco moves. Can you believe that?” I stepped onto the floor. Immediately my right hand went high and my left hand went low in an effort to keep my balance. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Cool-guy called after me. “Honey. Please. Be careful.” He jumped onto the floor and skated next to me. “And.” He said. “In case you were wondering.”

“Yes?” Left. Right. Left. Right.

“That’s not disco.”

Wanna try another column? How about #156, Wishing for an Un-pink Chanukah which is about finding ways to deal with all the wrong gifts.

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