Wreckins

It's ridiculously gorgeous in the Bend, so I left my bike at home at lunch and strapped on my blades for the trip back to work. I finally broke them out and vacuumed the dust off of them on Sunday after a ridiculously long hiatus, considering for years and years they were my only means of conveyance. Hey Box, remember that one time I was soaking the dirt and grime from my axles and bearings, but I didn't have a bucket so I used your cereal bowl? Haha, classic! That may have been the sleight that started it all.

Anyway, blading around campus was a scary experience, because I hadn't maintained my skates at all, so my mind kept wandering back all the times I have been savagely wrecked by or on those things. The first day of band camp freshman year, I got caught in a rut outside the band building a split my knee open. There was the garden hose stretched across God Quad at dusk which I never saw but only felt as my blades came to an abrupt stop but my body continued forward in a downward arc until my face met the pavement. Thank God Julia Hughitt happened along and helped me to Lewis, nothing swells the pride like being helped up from a pool of your own blood by Hottie McHotHot. One time a wheel split on South Quad--remember the scene in The Last Crusade where Indy sticks the flag pole through the spokes of that Nazi's dirt bike and it goes flipping off through the air? It was like that. One time a bicyclist and I both swerved the same direction to avoid each other and I took a bike frame to the nards. So many memories.

Hey Box, remember that one time I locked the door and took a nap while you were in the shower and you had to sit in the social lounge in your boxers for like 2 hours? Tenfold for the time you left that hotpot of mac&cheese rotting under the sink over break.