“Freedom is what we do with what is done to us.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre
Sometime, in early January, I was swimming laps at the pool. This is a fairly common occurrence. I try to go a few times a week. It clears my head, tones my arse, gives me an opportunity to cook for looks. This time, however, I had a bit of a life changing moment. It involved a man.
He was probably in his late 30s. He wasn’t a particularly attractive man. Normally, I wouldn’t notice him. Fortunately, for me, I did notice him. He did the most fucked up, intense, bellyflop I had ever seen. He got out of the pool and tried again.
I did a few kick board laps to suss out the situation. Basically, this man was learning to swim. He was having lessons. He was terrible. He asked so many questions. The coach was clearly frustrated. But, the man persisted. I think it was one of the loveliest things I have ever seen.
I went home feeling inspired. I couldn’t think of a time I had ever been that brave.
I’ve seen him there a few times now. He has gotten much better. A few weeks ago I congratulated him like a creepy stalker bitch. He said it was something he had just always wanted to do. Again, I was so impressed. So often my motivation has been something lame like get skinny and maybe get laid. This needed to change.
I decided to go for a run. Clear my head. Listen to the only man I should ever get sweaty with, Phil Collins.
As I ran I got in to my groove. I was feeling it. Then, the music stopped. Some other device was using my account. This isn’t that unusual. My darling Rose and I share everything.
However, this time it was connected to a mans iphone. Not just any man. A cheap cut of meat, you all know as Brisket. That bastard had stolen my favourite flannel shirt and my Spotify Premium. Blood boiled, revenge felt necessary.
I thought about it more. I thought about the man at the pool. I had spent so many hours sitting at skate parks while we dated. The whole time I was so bored. I’ve always really wanted to skate. This would be a perfect opportunity, but, I was scared of looking stupid. I continued to sit there.
Despite watching Puberty Blues in year 10 health class. I had clearly learnt nothing from Debbie Vickers. I was letting my sistahs down. Sometimes, I’d even go buy beers for the boys. What a fucking bowl mole. I felt worse than Sheryl after a trip to Bruce’s panel van followed by a tactical horse ride in the morning. Both bareback, of course.
An idea formed. The plan was simple. I’d commit fraud. After a few minutes on the internet I had chosen a lovely new board RRP $350. Thanks to a certain someone having sponsorships and the same passwords for everything. It was $0. He gets like 10 a month. I deserved this. I picked it up from the warehouse the following day. I was shitting myself but remaining calm. It was a fun time.
I’ve been practicing ever since. I’m actually pretty bloody good. I can even drink a beer while turning corners. It’s just something I’ve always really wanted to do.