Dear Drunk Skater Kids (that decided that 3 AM last night in the lot across the street from me was a good place to shred):
I know I seem old to you, but I swear, I’m totally hip. Not only do I have a skating tattoo (a flaming skull with crossed boards underneath, no less), but I own the complete works of JFA and McRad, too. While my board was knicknamed the “Laz-Y-Boy” by my friends (because I used it mostly for cruising than for tricks), it is adorned with a nice Motörhead sticker, which comforted me when I bruised my tailbone after a skating accident (I was drunk), and was laid up for a couple of days. What I’m saying is, this pretty much rules out any possible doubt of my sk8 cred (or impeccable taste).
However, my ability to sleep at night is iffy at best, and as it is the weekend before finals, it is imperative that I actually get eight hours of sleep. Especially since I’ve been having trouble sleeping all week given the city’s decision to fix the sewer pipes outside my window at 4 AM the other day, and the added reality that I quit drinking this year, and no longer have a pint of whiskey in me every night before bed.
So, when I get on your case about how you need to, “Get the fuck out out my neighborhood so I can get some sleep!” I’m not saying it to be a stuffy old dude who doesn’t understand, but rather as someone who has been tossing and turning every night this week, and really needs to be fresh so I can hammer out a pair of papers and finish my portfolio, all due Wednesday. I know you guys were having a good time, and I totally applaud that. Keep up the good work.
Just do it somewhere that isn’t right outside my window, please.
(And for the record: your skills aren’t that impressive; no, you’re the douche, and she had every reason to dump your ass if you talk about her like that; and for Earl’s sake, there’s better swill than mancans of Icehouse. You’re skaters, not assholes.)
Thank you for your time.