The hottest thing on 8 wheels …

So Saturday night a bunch of my family ended up at Pattison’s after falling prey to Aunt Faye’s nostalgic yearning to lace up a pair of roller skates. Pattison’s was a place I frequented during my junior high years (decked out in Seattle Blues and Jordache, thank you very much), but I swear we were nowhere near as brazen as the ‘tweens whizzing around the rink Saturday night. Back in my day, the sleaziest ensemble on the floor was a Flashdance-inspired off-the-shoulder sweatshirt (worn with coordinating legwarmers, of course). Apparently times have changed (although I don’t think the roller skates have – still the same flesh-toned boots with bright orange wheels ….). Teeny-tiny shorts paired with thigh-high tights seemed to be the theme of the evening, and all I kept thinking was, “None of these girls are old enough to drive here, which means someone’s mother had to see that get-up and deem it appropriate for public consumption.” And then I thought, “Cripes, maybe I’m just getting really prude.”

We were the only group that included skaters over the age of 20. The rink was infested with hormone-heavy middle schoolers (and a few horny highschoolers). I couldn’t believe all the tonsil hockey going down. Gag. I don’t think I’d want Kegan going there without a pre-emptive shot of penecillin. That place is a den of 8-wheel debauchery.

The DJ played only one song from back in the day – Journey’s Faithfully – to which Eric and I clasped hands and swooned. Otherwise it was all semi-current stuff you hear in the meat markets – Sir Mix-A-Lot, Rihanna, Beyonce, Black Eyed Peas, Pitbull and Lady Gaga … you know, all the latest crunk hits. You won’t hear me complaining about the music because that’s the stuff I typically listen to when I work out (and, yes, this was exercise!), but some of the kids seemed a bit uncomfortable watching an old lady shake what her mama gave her, on wheels. Tough crap, kids. I just saw you slipping each other the tongue. We’re even.