The Roller Skating Rink

The Roller Skating Rink Adolescents want to have a home they can call their own. In the 80s and early 90s, teenagers would hang start at the mall, the arcade, or many other spots. When I was a little girl, growing up in a small town, meant you had to travel to the city next door in order to find your weekend excitement. Usually that would be roller glide with your friends at Skate World, time listening to the pet group of the month. Having never done this as a child, my sister decided one afternoon that she would address me roller skating.I was amazed to find a little world filled with life blossom on a 70 X 160-ft cement slab known as a roller skating rink. As soon as we ente reddened the building which housed the rink, the warm, nostalgia scent of popcorn hit that part of my brain where insensate cobwebbed memories live, memories of my own childhood. We made our way past a group of exuberant teenagers at the snack close up until we reached the skating rink. Skinny, hard be nches, made for small butts, lined one wall. We took a seat and scanned the rink. My eyes paused to sound out a sign white, block letters on a black background warned, Skate At Your Own Risk. As my sister smiled back at me, I paused for a minute and thought, what have I gotten myself into. Meanwhile, two young men swaggered past us confident, heads held high, eyes focused on their destination. I leaned over, look down the long row of benches, curious to find out where they were going. Their confidence lagged a bit as they approached a large group of their peers, including several young ladies. All of them exhibited signs of discomfort as the girls crossed their build up over their mature bodies and the boys tried hard not to stare. Suddenly a silent signal move the entire group to the benches.Pairs of nimble hands laced up skates as quickly as possible, while other hands aided in conversation that only the listener was allowed to hear. I was struck by the intimacy of this scene. They all knew each other well. They had come together in the freedom of this one place to share and explore without the encumbrance of parents, teachers, or any other adult. I sat bolt upright, tactual sensation very uncomfortable as I realized how much I really didnt tick in. Then as I attempted to recover from my embarrassment, I was suddenly startled by a noisemusic, perhaps?It must have been music, because I glanced down to find my foot tapping away to a beat long forgotten. Then as if on cue, people from every corner of the room flocked to the rink. The slowness their bodies had expressed off the rink had been replaced by a grace not unlike a louse up bird. They were clumsy in their approach to flight, but once airborne, they were a soaring sight to behold. After cautiously watching, I was mesmerized by the effortlessness of their movements, weaving in and out, endlessly circling. Skates became a blur of color green, purple, blue, pink, and redspeeding by fast and furious. I felt the rush of wind on my face as I caught the musky scent of cologne mixed with sweat. A swirl of communication was taking place, no(prenominal) of it involving speech. The tactile sense had kicked in punching and shoving of young lions trying to impress their ladies of choice, bodies brushing by each other, and the pleasing touch of hand on arm. A statuesque blond, six inches taller than her partner, slipped. Catch me, Im locomote on purpose, her body language seemed to say. Eye contact was prevalent. Most skaters continually scanned the rink, found the one they were flavor for and BAM eyes quickly darted away.This testing of emotional waters went of for several hours boys and girls trying on relationships of men and women like kids playing dress up in their parents clothes. At last, I remembered the sign, Skate At Your Own Risk. At the time, I had worried about broken arms and legs, but as I watched the dance string out on that skating rink, I realized that these young people risk so much more. The vexation and rejection, the fear of making fools of themselves, and the devastation they feel when they believe that they have makes life for these teenagers a risky business. perhaps the sign should have read, Live At Your Own Risk.