Razor Scooters

Today an eight year old kid in my apartment complex asked me if I wanted to see him do a jump on his scooter. We spent a good ten minutes playing together. He told me that he wished the rocks around the complex weren't there because then he'd have more smooth surface to cruise his scooter on. I told him that I saved up all my birthday money when I was eleven and bought my own electric scooter.

My grandpa Bob bought me my first scooter. It had black foam handle bars and clear wheels. My grandpa also took me to see the Nutcracker once. He took me to see airplane shows and he took me to the circus.

My brother and I used to ride around on our scooters in the neighborhood talking gibberish, pretending we were conversing in a secret language. Neither of us knew what the other was saying, we just liked thinking we were different.

The boy I had a crush on in 4th grade once brought in his scooter for show-and-tell. The next week, he fell on me and broke my right arm. He didn't talk to me after that and I had to learn how to write with my left hand. Stupid Richie. Who falls on girls?

One of my closest friends, Dustin, in Elementary school had a learning disability. He had to move away to Michigan in 5th grade and when he came over to say goodbye, I was riding around in circles on the drive way with my scooter, thinking about how I would miss him and his quirky personality. He really liked trains.

When Layli was in 1st grade, I was in 6th grade. She went to a different school and I would wait for her bus to drop her off by my school's corner. She would stand with both feet on the scooter as I, with one foot barley rooted, would take us home. I remember freaking out if her bus was even just five minutes late. She was my responsibility then.

Funny thing what a scooter can mean.