Rolling Back the Clock
Short skirts, skinned knees, and sexy skaters at Hot Wheels

I rolled into Hot Wheels Skate Center at 8 p.m. on Tuesday night to watch the Lowcountry High Rollers tear up the rink, derby-style. The buzzer which sounded as the door opened got me salivating. Classical conditioning. Positive reinforcement. It was the smell of socks, the taste of sour candy, the smack of lip gloss on puckered lips, the delicate act of lacing up. I remember it well. The Lowcountry High Rollers had finished practicing, and they were eager to show off their hot-mama outfits and their mad skating skills during the Roller Disco Party. So were a lot of other folks. After I arrived, the people began piling in for the party and the costume contest. Wearing their shortest shorts, tightest tights, and most colorful accessories, the contestants were dressed to win. When it came time to take to the rink, the gaggle of giggling skaters happily entered the rink to tentatively test their long-forgotten skills. And let me tell you, roller skating ain’t like riding a bike. My legs felt like two wobbly beanpoles on wheels. I squealed with delight and contemplated canceling my gym membership — and updating my health insurance plan. Out on the floor, the bodies began to pile up — it was like a train-wreck of rubber, leather, and legs. People laughed, cried, skinned their knees, and blistered their feet. Pain never brought so much joy. And for $5 a pop, sign me up as a repeat offender.