When to ride a scooter

I was reminded today of the time I decided to ride my Razor to school—college that is. Big-kid school. So I set out, kicking away at the streets and sidewalks underneath me. Kicking away as the incline got steeper and steeper. Since when was campus uphill? I thought, a tinge annoyed. I'd never noticed the hill even though I'd walked to class every day of college. My kicking left leg got slower and slower until I decided to walk and then hold the scooter while I crossed over to the baseball stadium. My forehead was literally dripping. I'm known to drip. Half way there. The rest should've been a piece of cake, right? It was terribly embarrassing crossing over Bulldog Avenue because my left leg was limp by then, and I was wobbling on my right leg. I was spent. By the time I got to the JKHB, I'd removed my white hooded sweatshirt and was running my finger tips across my face to wipe it dry before class. And what do you do with a Razor scooter while you're in class? I slid it under my desk, hoping I wouldn't forget it. Well, my left leg was rubber the next day, and my back hurt from leaning over. Without too much thought, I decided to retire my scooter as campus transport.

So when I was walking through the lightly sprinkling rain on the U's campus today and heard a thud, squeak...thud, sqeak and then immediately saw a girl awkwardly kicking at the sidewalk to get going, I felt for her. Poor silly girl. At least the rain was coming down to hide her glistening forehead and armpit sweat circles.