27. Ice skate at Steinberg Rink in Forest Park when it’s cold enough outside to see your breath. Bring a date. You ever see the movie Serendipity? It’s just like that.
Friday night, we got together to do something crazy and dangerous in our old age: ice-skating at Steinberg in Forest Park. Think about it, broken bones, scrapped palms, bruised hineys, possible concussions, yep, we chose to do this. It was a gorgeous night, it wasn’t too cold, the air was crisp, a perfect night for ice-skating . I guess everyone had the same idea as well because when we got there, it was crowded and only increased as the evening went on.
My skills on the ice were barely passable, at best. I like to utilize the windmill technique, you know, the flailing of the arms. It’s a bit ridiculous to watch but I didn’t fall so I’m okay with that, I am not afraid of humiliation, in fact, I embrace it. There were a couple of newbies in our group and so we eased them into the skating, making sure that we were there if they fell. But they did wonderfully and enjoyed the experience so I have a feeling that this may be a repeat event.
The only complaint that I had about the evening was the line to return the skates. We probably waited 45 minutes just to get our shoes back, it was absolutely ridiculous. I think it may have to do with the incompetence of the staff and the rude people that kept jumping the line, little shit bastards. Overall, it was fantastic, a great way to enjoy Forest Park and see some of the lights of the city.
For someone who goes skating once every three years or so, your skills are impeccable.
Who’s the chick Brandon’s with?
I’m really happy I didn’t bring my ass. The first few laps were a little scary but I eventually got my legs back. Good times.
*break my ass*
That is Brandon’s new lady-friend, Sarah. It is spelled with an “h” on the end, right, Brandon?
yep, with an “h”
Brandon likes girls?!!?!
that hurts Kenny.
It probably doesn’t hurt Kenny as much as your stunning failure to use commas does.