The other night my wife decided she wanted to go roller-skating, so as the good husband I am, I sucked up my pride, dished out the money and strapped on the boots of terror. But of course we never do anything that is considered humiliating alone; so we went with some friends, the Smores and Skates McGhee.

We arrived at the skating rink ten minutes before opening; we wanted to beat the wild rush of 8th graders. Paid our money and started suiting up. We picked out our light brown skates, which look the exact-same as when I was in grade school. I tried to be witty with the poor girl behind the counter, but obviously I’m old and uncool now and she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me. I guess I’ve become the creepy old guy. But one nice thing they do have now are playschool plastic skates for small children, so my son was not left out.

The three of us (wife, son and I) decided to take a lap around the rink before everyone else showed up. The disco ball and Hannah Montana music was calling us and no matter what type of self-control you think you have, there is a primal urge that pulls you on to the slick wooden surface and screams at you to rolls around in circles.

What we didn’t anticipate was the time it would take to roll in one complete circle with a 2-year-old that has never skated before. After 20 minutes and a few irreversible back problems, we finally finished one lap and decided to rehydrate ourselves at the snack bar.

The Smores and Skates McGhee showed up to join in the fun right when we finished our first lap. Once they were settled in, and we got our drinks, we all were drawn back to the disco ball. We seemed to break off into two different groups, the boy group and the girl group. It was almost as if we reverted back to 8th grade ourselves. The girls took the kid while us guys tried to skate the best we could in circles looking as cool as possible.

After a few laps around I started to get a little self-conscious, it occurred to me that I was skating with another dude around the same age as me. While I can’t remember what song was playing, I’m sure it was Journey or something similar. Though I didn’t say anything, around this time is when I decided to take a few minutes to get another drink.

Mr. Smore and Skates McGhee were skating alone, while the woman and children were doing their own thing. Mr. Smore and Skates McGhee had, as far as I know, never met before, and thinking back, it was rude of me that I didn’t introduce them. But the absurd part was that grown men were content to roll around in circles by their selves while listening to horrible pre-teen music. Very odd indeed.

One of the best parts of the evening was when Skates McGhee and I caught Mr. Smore participating in some of the roller-skating games, like the limbo and roller dodge ball. We laughed as he was chased off the floor by a small child and when he fell when trying to get his 6 foot tall body under a pole 3 feet off the ground.

For the most part my son enjoyed the whole skating adventure. He got to roller skate for his first time, play the claw game, chew on Skates McGhee’s shirt (which Skates McGhee was VERY nice about, considering they really didn’t know each other that well either), and drink slushies until his stomach hurt.

I don’t know how often we will go back to the roller-skating rink, but I will say, it doesn’t change. So if you went as a small child and you ever wonder what it’s like these days; it hasn’t changed, it’s exactly the same as you remembered. Except now, there are no girls your age to look at, you feel a little more awkward, and if you fall you WILL break something, and if you break something, it will take MUCH longer to heal.

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