Roller Skates and Free Drinks

The first thing I noticed was the metal detector. Apparently roller rinks have changed since the last time I went skating--ten plus years ago. After buying our tickets, my friends and I walked through the metal detector, chose our skates, and laced up. As I awkwardly rolled/stepped toward the rink, I could barely contain my excitement. Lights danced on the floor. Music flooded the room. Flashbacks of blissful birthday parties at Skate East, Wichita's finest rink, came to mind.

For the first few laps, my legs wouldn't stop wobbling. I fell a couple times but decided that was just part of the learning curve. Bit by bit, my legs strengthened. Several songs later, I was even roller dancing (def: flailing your arms in interpretive gestures while preferably remaining upright). When the the DJ announced speed races for the 18-and-up group, I prepared to dominate. I followed J (a.k.a. The Husband) and some of our friends onto the rink. There were about fifteen racers total. I was the only girl.

The horn blared and I took off. Almost everyone flew by me. I lowered my body and swung my arms, making up techniques as I went. Since it was just one lap, the race didn't last long. Everyone beat me except for J. And I have sneaky suspicion he stayed behind in case of further fall-idge. Given my less-than-stellar performance, I was shocked when the DJ in the striped shirt handed me a free-drink ticket.

"But I didn't win," I said.
"The winning guy and girl both get a free drink," the DJ explained with a grin.
"Oh." Laughing, I took the ticket. "Want a drink?" I asked J.

Minutes later, J returned from the refreshment stand. Even though his drink was only slightly larger than a dixie cup, I admired my trophy with satisfaction. Walking through the metal detector was totally worth this.