By: Sydney Goldberg
My toenail is crushed into a million pieces. It was a Monday. I was in excruciating pain on an otherwise perfect day. The air was crisp, leaves swirling through the air, and the sun vibrant as it reflected off of my neon yellow helmet.
Showing off never ends well. My signature Loaded Tan Tien 180 frontside finger flip was a go to trick when I wanted to impress. Across from the Fine Arts Building, I popped my board up, flicked the 8 pound mass of woven bamboo, and it landed primo on my big toe. Let’s just say, I waddled the rest of the way home.
My tear ducts got quite the workout that night. The simple act of sleeping was impossible. And guess who did not have any anti-inflammatory medicine? Me. My toenails were painted Sally Hansen’s “Blue Streak” because blue is my favorite color, and I was petrified to see what lies beneath the polish.
I was angry at my Tan Tien and Dodger blue Authentic shoes. No matter how fresh the faded white checkerboard pattern looked, they were evil…thin with no ankle support. Everyone knows that I like lacing up my mid-top sneakers abnormally tight just to reassure myself that a pair of rolled ankles won’t be coming my way.
The Rolls-Royce of Longboards
Downhill longboarding is not where my future lies. I hate going fast and not being in control of the cars swarming behind me. On the other hand, my friend Colby, has a deathwish. 30 m.p.h. is his stroll in the park.
Colby’s carcass after racing 50 m.p.h. down Griffy Lake.
While Colby was zooming down this street behind the Eigenmann dorms, I kept foot-breaking to slow down. Cautiously, I moved to the side of the road to let traffic pass. This happened five or six times, until it became unbearable. The rest of the way, my friend, Chad and I walked on the slanted grass mound because there was no path.
In the distance, I saw a sidewalk next to this freshly-paved parking lot. My skating resumed, until a car turned left and almost hit me. I threw my hands up at the driver, completely enraged with his carelessness. As I motioned to him, I was not paying attention to the small rocks that infested the entrance. All it took was one pebble, and my board came to a complete stop.
In slow motion, this automobile ran over my Tan Tien. His front wheels hit, bottoming out my board. Then, his back wheels struck, making this terrible screeching noise. That was it. My $300 investment down the tubes. The jerk opened his door to ask if my board was okay. My first thought was holy shit it does not have a scratch on it. Speechless, I tried jumping on the longboard to see if it would snap, nothing. The guy said whatever and sped away. I did not like him very much. He reminded me of those teen boys who did doughnuts in the skatepark parking lot, leaving nothing but a thick, ugly black tire mark behind.
While Shaking, I realized that could have been me under his Honda Accord. Everyone around me, Chad, Colby, Ali, and a few others were awe-struck, unsure of what just happened. I am thankful. I am convinced my board is a good omen.
Sydney Goldberg is a senior at Indiana University studying Journalism, Studio Art, and Art History. Twitter me ♥