Tuesday, 10 March 2009

Sk8ter Grrl

Or not as the case is (highly likely) to be.

Oh dear oh dear.

Can you imagine me on roller skates? No? Well neither can I. The only words that spring to mind are ones like 'pain', 'disaster', 'horror' and 'everyone else having a bloody good laugh at my expense'. I am just about the most un-coordinated person that ever lived and a friend of mine has just announced that her Hen Do will be held at a Roller Disco. So that's lots of drunken women dancing - with skates on. In public....

Now before I go on I think it's fair to point out that my track record with Hen-dos is less than comforting.

On my own Hen Do I was mistaken for a transvestite. I am over 6ft in heels and I was wearing a very camp pink wig, but all the same the comment 'I knew you must have been born a woman because your tits don't look that plastic' wasn't really what a young bride wanted to hear. That and the taxi driver asking if I'd enjoyed my Stag night.....

Then there was the Hen Do where the chief bridesmaid tried to have the bride arrested for possession of cocaine BUT the less said about that the better as they are still waiting to go to court.....

So it is with some trepidation that I approach the idea of the Roller Disco. Because apart from anything else I absolutely 100% CAN NOT roller skate. However hard I try. And I'm scared of it. Really very scared!

Now if you are female and aged between about 25 and 40 the words 'Roller Disco' will have you either:

a) thinking 'oh my god how absolutely brilliant! What a FANTASTIC idea! I can't wait to get my skates back on! Oh do you remember the good old days... the way we used to make up our own routines! Sipping Cherry Coke round the back of the sports halls... Kissing Lee for the first time....Ohhhhhhh I'm squealing with joy! Now where's my leg warmers and Cindi Lauper cassette tape?


b) What? Are you serious? Roller skating? To music? With ME involved? (heart beat increases, cold sweat starts to pour from forehead) ARE YOU HAVING A LAUGH!? Have you SEEN what happens when I attach unstable footwear to my feet? No? Well it ain't pretty. I basically end up clutching the side rail whilst doing an impression of the young Bambi (only fatter and less cute - and without the white spots on my arse) and wailing a lot whilst counting the minutes until I can return to normal footwear. I thought this torment died out around 1992 when everyone discovered Ecstasy and didn't need to tie wheels to their feet in order to reach a higher plain of consciousness?

If you answered a) to the above question then chances are you liked New Kids on the Block/Bros/Take That et al and read Smash Hits and Just Seventeen, were very good at netball and all round very tanned and vigorous and chirpy.

If you answered b) to the above then chances are you carved CND symbols into your pencil case, used Tipex to proclaim your love for Kurt Cobain, wore DMs and stripy tights, were shit at netball (in fact draw that out to include all school sports), were pale yet (you hoped) 'darkly mysterious' and (possibly) never really felt like you fitted in with the rest of your school. You CERTAINLY didn't fit in down at the roller disco.

What am I going to do? Spend the night on the toilet or face down on the dancefloor? (Hmm, mind you - wouldn't be the first time).

Dark psychological musings aside, the really important question is....


If it transpires that the bar is on the other side of the roller-rink then I am going to have to transverse it in order to get my mitts on any kind of alcoholic beverage.

I can see me now - scrabbling across the vinyl floor covering on my hands and knees, tutu covered backside jiggling from side to side (yes, tutus are compulsory) gasping 'cider...cider...I need cider'....

If I can get to the bar, I will be OK. I can just stay there for the evening and they can use my skates to drag me back to the taxi afterwards. A drunk on wheels has got to be easier than a drunk without them? (Can you see I'm desperately trying to look on the bright- side here?).

It's at the end of May.

I'm sure this isn't the last you will be hearing about it.

Brace yourself girls - I'm shopping for Spandex.....


  1. I'm in the 'a' crew - although from memory i was never 'tanned and good at netball'! Bring it on, now what ever happened to my Roce?

  2. Kat - compared to mine your tan would have been positively glowing. Prior to the advent of easily available fake tan, Peter once lost me in bed because (quote) 'I blended in with the sheets'.

    What is Roce?? See, I'm lost already....

  3. If it's the Colchester one, you have to go through the bar to get to the rink, so you're sorted!

    But maybe you will look more like Bambi if you take with you the cocaine-bride. Might help with the white spots on the arse... just a thought...

  4. No not Colchester - Vauxhall, London! Hopefully the bar is similarly positioned.

    Can't take the cocaine-bride (who, I must add didn't take the cocaine but was set up by her (ex) bridesmaid - allegedly - eek I'm nervous of the court case here) because she will just about ready to give birth. I'm guessing that heavy pregnancy and roller discos don't really mix?

    Hey Kat - does that mean you are definitely coming!? YES!!!

    I'm off shopping for outfits soon - or do you think I can resurrect Ginger Spice? Kind of 'Geri on Ice' but without the ice?

  5. Roces were a brand of skate back then and it was a big battle between Roces and Bauers as to which were the better skates. See it has all happening at Roller City in Eastwood, Essex!