12/8/2005

I went ice skating today. At the Pyramid itself, no less. I never found it to be a difficult thing, though I never particularly enjoyed the activity either. For all of an hour I maintained my dignity and balance, but I was still in a constant state of pain most unforgiving. Ice skating requires a great deal of effort from amateurs, and by the end of it all I was pretty much exhausted. Hey, you try circling the ring on skates for a solid hour.

The Pyramid was crowded today, or so it seemed to me. Not being a frequent visitor I have no idea what is considered standard fare there. Despite the crowding, the fine people at Pyramid Ice decided to empty the rink for cleaning at peak hour, then let the few hundred skaters back in one at a time. A lone employee of indeterminate gender crouched by the narrow gates, inspecting skates. He/she (seriously) would make sure the laces were done right, and those who failed were sent back up through the gates, prolonging the evitable delay. I was one of the first in line, but I think the entire process took like half an hour. Brilliance.

Going round after round in the rink, you start to recognize interesting people. Today there was a group of femmes decked out in Christmas hats. Well, not only Christmas hats. But it reminded me that I should be getting mine out.

I had one of those moments today. You know what I mean. A moment when you meet the gaze of a stranger, and something just clicks. You know there’s a connection but you don’t know why, and you’re sure as anything that they know it too. Then the moment is lost, and life goes on. The strangest part of all is the feeling that the stranger you touched came very close to being an important part of your life, but there’s no clue how or why. It’s like a glimpse through the looking glass at the life fate could have given you.

It’s like that James Blunt song. Probably says it better than I never could.

Yeah, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
Fucking high,
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till the end.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

Of all the times I’ve connected with the one I’ve never met, only once did I make something real of it. Okay, so she asked for my phone number. And wrote me a letter. Still, in the end I managed to screw it up in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, and we just drifted apart as I stood by and watched it happen.

There was so little I understood back then. It could have been easy to ride off into the sunset at the happy ending, but instead I blew it completely. Then again, we can never know for sure how things might have turned out, victims of circumstance that we are; it could have been better but it also could have been worse. Though I seriously doubt it. Maybe someday I’ll reveal more about one of the biggest chances I ever let slip through my fingers.

At the Pyramid game store today, I watched a boy flip right part Resident Evil, the entire Prince of Persia series, Brothers in Arms, Call of Duty and Navy Seals to purchase a copy of 50 Cent: Bulletproof. For some reason I could see it coming as soon as he hit the page, possibly before the notion even entered his head. Warning bells erupted like fireworks in my head as a silent scream issued from the part of my mind that was closest to sanity. I genuinely wanted to tell him not to buy the game, but for some reason I didn’t. Maybe I knew deep down that it wasn’t worth the effort, or that he was the kind of kid who wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about my opinion and get it anyway. Or something.

As long as we’re on the topic of games: Resident Evil 4. The game looks brilliant, and definitely has enough it to keep me on the edge of my seat. I haven’t got the hang of the controls yet, so far all I can do in combat is stab blindly at the sky and shoot the feet of villagers until they get close enough to eat my brains. Still, there’s something about a man who stoically refuses to move any faster than a crippled turtle even in the face of dynamite-wielding zombies that’s simultaneously mortifying and fascinating. At the same time.