I bought a new board today. And some new wheels. I was riding fresh coming down DeKalb towards the avenue.
New trucks and bearings were waiting at my apartment, and it was only right that I set up my board as soon as I stepped through my bedroom door. I thought to myself whether I wanted to hit Maria Hernandez, or go to TF West (TF West, right?). The latter enticed me more and I boarded the J with 10 seconds to spare before it took off from the platform.
I had a feeling that I had not tightened the bolts to my trucks enough, but still went on my little escapade. La Abiceleste on my back, and a old pair of Nikes that I bought from Marshalls last November. I go for a back tail on the baby box, and BOOM. My wheel pops off, which means the bolt is also off. The next 30 minutes are spent walking around, trying to figure out where such a small yet important piece to my board went. Nearly giving up, I find it behind a bench and continue my session.
Two dudes sat next to me as I took a break from skating once I had found my bolt. They were speaking Spanish and I instantly picked up on it. As they left, I left them with a ¨Que se vayan bien¨, and we instantly had a 3 minute convo about how Messi may never win a World Cup because of how shit his team is. That was one of the first times I was able to use my Spanish out of the context of ordering food over the counter, or speaking to my stepmother. I was confident, in that I usually do not decide to do such a thing.
In short, I still got it.
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