Monday, June 30, 2008

gravity will always let you down

If there's anything more uncool than riding a Razor scooter, it's falling off a Razor scooter. On the sidewalk. I got skills. I don't know if you wander through the residential blocks of Lincoln Square, but you'll come across these small, old neighborhood churches with cornerstones of circa 1886. I was scooting along, looking at this church I hadn't seen before, wondering what this god-fearing German neighborhood looked like in 1886 when I should have been wondering what the sidewalk looked like circa now. My scooter hit a -- I don't know -- a rock? Probably no larger than this asterisk --> * <-- but holy hell, I was about to have a profound misunderstanding with gravity. My brain made an emergency call: "feet? legs? hello? Voicemail (you joking?) -- hi guys, it's Marisa... um...yeah. It would be great if you could maybe, like, I don't want to trouble you or anything, but I'm about to fucking fall on my face and it would be nice if you responded by, I don't know... working? But whatever. Don't buffer my fall. I'm really looking forward to stopping at CVS on the way home for hydrogen peroxide and band-aids. I needed to buy that shit anyway. Thanks. Cute voicemail message about 'having to run out' ha ha. Bye." Click. Thankfully nobody saw me bite it on my scooter other than Jesus c 1886. We're just going to keep this hush hush. It would be pretty lame if anybody knew I got owned by my scooter.