mal
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I went skating like always, but I was in a
deja vu loop I knew what was going to
happen before it did. I had been skating for
awhile when I had the feeling I was going to
hang on a backside air. I went anyway, just
to give the devil his due. You guessed it, I
locked. Laying on the flatbottom, I couldn't
figure if I did it on purpose or if it was just
fate. Anyway, this session was over and I
had big plans. Word was that the 5.F. Dogs,
featuring the brothers Guerrero, were play
ing a show at this shitbag club I'd never
been to, and we were going.
"klink" and I was busted. I was es
corted out a side door and cut off
from my party scheme. I ran
around to the front door and tried
ever-so-casually to walk in. Dumb.
This huge bouncer grabbed my
neck and started calling me horri
ble things. The last of which I re-
member was, "If you ever come
back, I'm gonna kick your face in."
I strolled just out of chasing dis-
tance and went on my own tirade
against him and the horse he rode
in on. He wanted to run me down
and kill me, but his little poodle-
headed bitch said, "Come on,
Frank, he ain't worth it." Five hun-
dred bucks in my pocket and I get
busted for stealing beers.
Grateful Dead pull all the "hippy pussy" in
the world and they play every New Year's at
the Oakland Coliseum. He was so exicted
he was pounding his fists on the steering
wheel. He let me out at the toll booth, about
a four-mile skate from my house over shitty
pavement. I decided that a shortcut through
the army base would save time. It turned out
to be a dumb decision-the security patrol
was all over me. They picked me up and
gave me the third degree: "Who are you?"
"What are you doing here?" Ever the thinker,
I started bawling my eyes out and told them
some fag had picked me up hitching and put
the heat on me, so I jumped out on the high-
way. The end result was a free ride home
and a lecture about the perils of hitchhiking.
I went inside, got my dog and went for a
walk in the pale west Oakland moonlight. I
thought about the shit that just happened to
me, went inside and shaved my head. I was
in bed by four a.m.
I took off howling into the night,
solo. I was far from home and far
from done. I walked into a joint where I
used to be a local and saw this
old broad giving me the hairy
eye. The old girl looked like she
had been there for awhile, but
she also looked vaguely familiar.
She slithered up to me, exhaled
a fog of halitosis in my face and
said, "Mind if I join ya?" Then I
recognized her. It was my third
grade teacher, Ms. Meyer, who
had obviously fallen a long way
from the tree. In third grade she
was a vision of beauty to me,
one of the first women I ever
thought about sexually. I once
saw her bare breast when she bent over.
That memory flash lasted a few seconds and
when I came back to earth she was still wait-
ing for an answer. I said, "Sure." We talked
for awhile, she was making up stories about
I went anyway,
just to give the
devil his due.
Entering the club was like walking into a
different world-a cross between early
eighties Culture Club Boy George schlock
and some Mad Max Terminator wet dream. I
was looking at guys dressed like girls and
girls dressed like dogs. There was a smoke
machine and some Siouxie and the
Banshees shit playing really loud. It sucked. I
wandered until I found
the cave downstairs
where the bands play..
Trout was blowing
chunks on stage when I
entered the room. The
Dogs were going on at
11:30, so I had some
time to kill. I was getting
gone when I spied a tray filled with beer on
ice that was not being given the kind of at-
tention it deserved. KT offered to keep the
wisp of a bartender occupied while I did
some creeping. Well, this place was loud,
but on my second grab, the bottle went
You guessed it,
I locked.
who she was and where
she had been. She was
lying, but I didn't care. At
last call, she laid down.
all her cards. "I got some
white wine at my hotel,,
want a drink?" I felt sorry
for her, but not that sorry.
I left a tip at the bar
and fumbled my way to the on-ramp for a
hitch home. I waited twenty minutes before
a guy in beat-up Saab pulled over. He was
from Brazil and quizzed me incessantly
about America, more specifically where he
could get some "hippy pussy." I told him the
56 THE MAGAZINE
Opposite page: Rodney
(top) gives his nod of
approval to the party
scene. KJT (middle) coughs
up the bronze. Sacto skate
legend Rick Winsor (bot-
tom) didn't bring his
board, but he brought his
plate. This page: Newly
crowned "Skater of the
Year" Danny Way coasts
through a nose blunt slide.
To the victor go the spoils
Jinset), a boss bronze
Thrasher statuette.