Skater boy

I was standing on the corner or Lincoln and Venice, outside the front entrance, or what I thought was the front entrance of a notary public. It turns out the door I was trying to open was sealed shut and on the reverse side, blocked by those green and white Kirkland paper boxes stacked on top of the other .

I was pulling with all my might on the door, and in my defeat I took a step backwards on the sidewalk. At that exact moment, a guy on his skateboard happened by. And, as it was, my foot and his skateboard were indeed star crossed this afternoon, as either lovers of tumbled passion or enemies with intent to destroy.

His skateboard caught by my foot skidded to a halt, and he, thanks to Newton’s 3^rd law “a body in motion tends to stay in motion”, slid on the cracked plates of Venetian sidewalk, ipod skimmed across the asphalt driveway. Disoriented we both stared at each other, he was a lanky, tanned local with maple syrup colored hair and green eyes the kind with the freckles in them, he smelled of essential patchouli and a boy dorm. I could hear the faint voices of rage against the machine coming from his ipod which seemed to contrast with his faded brown Bob Marley shirt he had on.

I think my face had a scowl on it, maybe from shock or maybe from pain, but he jumped up surprisingly fast and grabbed his ipod and board, “Sorry!” he said as he quickly turned around and threw the board down for another go. I wish I could go back and change my frown for a smile, maybe even offer my hand to him. I wonder how that would have changed the memory for him. Because in my mind, he was kind and humble, peaceful. People who say they don’t have any regrets in life are forgetting little moments like these.