At summer camp we used to take a trip to this roller skating
rink in the middle of the woods. There was something magical about that place;
magical and frightening at the same time. I mean it was this big wooden shell
of a place, lit with twinkly lights with nothing around it but tall trees. It
was like the candy house in Hansel and Gretel. Occasionally there would be
Amish kids there and we’d stare openly at each other for what seemed like a
long time, and then get back to tying our skates, these old crusty brown
shoe/boots that I LOVED. I remember telling the pimply-faced Albino guy behind
the counter my size and feeling like he was handing me back a gift. I remember
the loud music and the louder sound of rolling wheels on the wood floor. I
remember screaming and holding my hands out in front of me, grabbing someone’s
arm and then pushing past. I don’t remember any friends being there, though I’m
sure there must have been some, I only remembering smiling with my mouth open,
sweating, and how good the soda tasted at the end of the night.
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