Monday, February 4, 2008
Le Patinodrome
In the ninth grade, my home room class went on a trip to Charlesbourg, a suburb of Quebec City, where we stayed with the families of students we'd been corresponding with since the beginning of the school year. While there, we hung out with the students, went to school with them, and once in a while practiced our French.
Of course, there was a girl. Dominique. Dark hair, just past her shoulders, short enough that whenever she turned her head, it would stay in the front and she would have to push it back. I saw her a few times over the course of that week, whenever the group got together; at the school, at a dinner, and one particular night when we went to Le Patinodrome, a huge roller-disco.
Back then I still had my enormously thick glasses. This was before lenses could be thinned, so mine were very heavy, and in order to keep them from falling off my face, the earpieces looped around my ears. I was almost literally blind without them, and they were definitely not an attractive clothing accessory.
I was taking a break from roller-skating, sitting in the snack area finishing a pop, when a slow French song came on. I skated back to the benches, where the group was sitting and waiting for the next good song. Dominique came over to me, took my hand, and pulled me onto the floor. She was so beautiful as we skated around on that huge elliptical floor, hand in hand, under the spinning disco balls and rotating lights. I was so happy, the only thing I wanted was to not embarrass myself.
I don't know why the skating area was designed this way, but there were pillars jutting out from one of the side walls. Dominique and I were skating by them when some guy - whom I never saw but can only imagine was some beefed-up jock - skated between us and pushed me off to the side. I went face first into one of the pillars, breaking my glasses and leaving my nose bleeding. I honestly don't know if it was her that helped me back to the benches, but I hoped it wasn't. I remember wishing that she was still skating around, thinking I was next to her, and that this was how the night ended. Hand in hand, smiling and laughing.
For the rest of the trip, which was another day and another night, I couldn't see anything beyond an arm's length. I never saw Dominique again for this reason, but I wish that I could go back now and finish that dance. Just one more lap around. For old time's sake. ¶ 7:10 AM
Of course, there was a girl. Dominique. Dark hair, just past her shoulders, short enough that whenever she turned her head, it would stay in the front and she would have to push it back. I saw her a few times over the course of that week, whenever the group got together; at the school, at a dinner, and one particular night when we went to Le Patinodrome, a huge roller-disco.
Back then I still had my enormously thick glasses. This was before lenses could be thinned, so mine were very heavy, and in order to keep them from falling off my face, the earpieces looped around my ears. I was almost literally blind without them, and they were definitely not an attractive clothing accessory.
I was taking a break from roller-skating, sitting in the snack area finishing a pop, when a slow French song came on. I skated back to the benches, where the group was sitting and waiting for the next good song. Dominique came over to me, took my hand, and pulled me onto the floor. She was so beautiful as we skated around on that huge elliptical floor, hand in hand, under the spinning disco balls and rotating lights. I was so happy, the only thing I wanted was to not embarrass myself.
I don't know why the skating area was designed this way, but there were pillars jutting out from one of the side walls. Dominique and I were skating by them when some guy - whom I never saw but can only imagine was some beefed-up jock - skated between us and pushed me off to the side. I went face first into one of the pillars, breaking my glasses and leaving my nose bleeding. I honestly don't know if it was her that helped me back to the benches, but I hoped it wasn't. I remember wishing that she was still skating around, thinking I was next to her, and that this was how the night ended. Hand in hand, smiling and laughing.
For the rest of the trip, which was another day and another night, I couldn't see anything beyond an arm's length. I never saw Dominique again for this reason, but I wish that I could go back now and finish that dance. Just one more lap around. For old time's sake. ¶ 7:10 AM
