I was once involved in a fist fight with another man while the both of us were wearing rollerblades. I’m not making this up. Before going any further with this story I want you to stop and picture two men fighting with rollerblades on their feet. Have you ever seen anything gayer? We may as well have been wearing lipstick and making out. Unfortunately I lost this battle, but I have a feeling when my best friend came rolling up at home on his rollerblades his father felt just as shitty as I did. He laid in bed that night staring at the ceiling fan while wondering if his son was a homosexual or not. He was this arrogant cut-throat lawyer mother fucker separated from his wife and the idea that his youngest son is gay was enough to put the barrel of a shot gun in his mouth.
Anyhoo, the year was 1992. I was living in Escondido, California and believe it or not rollerblading was kind of cool.
Fuck you.
I begged my mother to buy me a pair and she finally broke down. She also bought me the cutest little purse ever to go with them. That’s a joke of course, but I did spend every second of about three months with these fucking rollerblades on my feet. My best friend Jason was right there next to me. How he convinced his father to buy him a pair is beyond me, but I would have liked to have been there for that conversation.
“Dad, will you buy me a pair of rollerblades?”
No response.
I’m guessing it went down something like that. This guy’s dad was a total asshole. I think out of all the years I knew him he maybe acknowledged my existence twice and one of those times being to tell me to stop eating all the fucking Doritos. He drove this slammin’ ass royal blue Jaguar and we seriously debated keying it at least a 1,000 times. I didn’t like this mother fucker and seriously hope Jason did turn out to be a homosexual. I like the idea of his father blowing his brains out.
So anyhoo one day Jason and I are being fags on our rollerblades playing street hockey by the neighborhood pool. This was a cul-de-sac neighborhood with a community pool for the residents to use. It also had a prime parking lot for street hockey. It’s just the two of us and he pulls this bullshit maneuver by stabbing his hockey stick in my skates when I’m about to score on his ass. This of course sends me flying face first in the concrete and making me beyond fucking livid in the process. The second I got back up to my feet (skates) I rolled right over and punched him dead center in the chest.
The fight was on!
The only problem for me being the fact this asshole’s house was in view of the pool and his older brother noticed us fighting. This dude and his friend came running over to help. Before falling victim to the odds quickly stacking up against me, I was really having my mouthful of revenge. Jason had rolled back up into the fence and turned around to latch onto it so he wouldn’t fall. I rolled right up behind him as if I might fuck him and unleashed a fury of punches to the side of his head.
I was winning!
By a fucking long shot, but it wasn’t but seconds until his older brother was ripping me off him. I was thrown on the pavement again where I was told to stay until Jason regained himself. At this point I was pulled to my feet (skates) and held by the arms while Jason was allowed to taste his own revenge. He punched me perfectly in the left eye to which turned into a nasty black eye I was forced to walk around with for over a week. His older brother held my arms behind my back while Jason did his best to throw heavy punches while wearing rollerblades.
This is actually quite difficult and I’m thankful for that. I remember being in pain and somewhat regretting that first punch in his chest, but mostly I was insanely jealous I didn’t have an older brother to help me. I was going through this weird out of body experience where it was perfectly clear how much fun these two brothers were having while beating the shit out of me. They must have talked about that shit for weeks while laughing their asses off and high-fiving.
I hated that.
I despised the fact I was their bitch only bonding them closer together. I wanted an older brother, damn it!
At one point I was able to kick Jason in the shin with one of my skates. I know that shit hurt because he went fucking ballistic and so did his brother. I was punched a few more times and went limp on the ground. All I could do at this point is tell them all to go fuck themselves. I don’t want to piss in my own pocket, but I’m quite gifted at dishing out a good verbal lashing. So much in fact his older brother came back and kicked me square in the ribs.
The only noise I was making at this point was tears. I remember picturing that god damn royal blue Jaguar. My mom drove a Volkswagen Golf. Fuck their rich fucking family of dudes living this crazy rad bachelor lifestyle and kicking my mamma’s boy ass.
No one can take an ass kicking with more pride than a boy raised by his mother.
I had to roll by their house in order to get home and of course I was laughed at. Even his father was out there, but I can’t recall if he actually laughed or not. He was probably still trying to deal with the sight of his son wearing rollerblades. Jason and I were friends again before the weekend was up, though I never bridged the gap with his older brother. I hated that mother fucker now – mostly because I wanted him to be my older brother. I had an older sister, what fucking help is that? Thinking back I should have had her break his fucking heart. Apparently my sister was kind of hot in high school because if I had a nickel for every time one of my friends asked what my sister’s tits looked like I’d be driving a Jaguar.
