Laying Low in Hollywood by Jean Marie Stanberry Page A

it’s your first day.  It would be easy for you to overdo it, that would be completely counterproductive,” I told him, with a little shrug.
     
       “What can I do?  You know, to help learn to skate?” he asked, he seemed lost.
     
       “Well, since you have no previous experience, it’s just going to take time.  It’s not as easy as it might seem, professionals work for years to learn the moves you see on TV.  It doesn’t all happen overnight.  You need to strengthen your ankles I guess, and in time, with practice, you will learn,” I told him with a little shrug.
     
       “If I need practice, then why are we quitting for the day?” he cried in exasperation.
     
       “Ron, you’ve never even been on skates before, your body needs to adjust to being on these thin little blades, there’s a risk of overdoing it.  Besides, your skates aren’t broken in, that in itself, can take weeks.  If your feet get all blistered up, you’re going to be feeling some serious pain.  There is only so much abuse your body can take, your muscles need a break, and your feet need a break from the skates,” I told him.
     
       “Listen here.  You don’t know what I can endure.  I was a football player, you think I don’t know pain?  I’m used to working through the pain, I’ve played with broken ribs, and a broken hand.  I’m not a sissy little girl and I’m not ready to give it up yet today,” he snapped, eyeing me seriously.  I bit my lip and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
     
       “Ron please, I’m not trying to insult your masculinity.  I’m sure you have enough testosterone for yourself and everyone in this arena.  But this is not football.  I’m just afraid you might overdo it and injure yourself.  You need to take it slow, go home and rest tonight, tomorrow is another day.  If we try to do too much today, you might end up being worthless tomorrow,” I said, giving him a little shrug.
     
       “You let me worry about that.  I’m not done.  I want you to teach me more.  Are you too tired to help me?” he asked, eyeing me arrogantly.
     
       “No I’m not too tired to help you.  Ron, I’m simply trying to protect you.  Your body is not used to being on skates for long periods of time.  I’m just worried that...”
     
       “Are you going to help me, or not?” he cried, staring me down angrily.
       I rolled my eyes, then I skated over to where I was standing just a foot in front of him.  I stared him down arrogantly.  If nothing else, he had determination, but I was not going to surrender to him simply because he was a muscle bound, testosterone loaded, god.
     
       “I will help you, but I will listen to no whining tomorrow, if your feet hurt,” I snapped.
     
       “I promise, no whining!” he said, giving me that smile again, my heart seemed to accelerate almost automatically.              
     
       “Okay, let’s do this,”  I said, taking his right arm and placing it around my waist, then I linked my left hand with his and soon we were gliding around the rink together.
     
       We were far from graceful and he stumbled often, a result of leaning too far forward and having his toe picks suddenly grab the ice.  He was good natured about it all, if he fell, he would get up and go right back to work.  I was pleased for the most part, we had actually spent more time on our skates, than we had on our butts!
     
       Ron and I skated together for another hour and soon I was feeling like he wasn’t totally a lost cause.  If nothing else, he had the drive to make this work.  I was actually very proud of him!
     
       We were laughing as we sat side by side on a bench in the lobby and took our skates off.  I had to admit, he was a very funny guy and I was enjoying my time with him.  I was a little self conscious about our developing friendship, it seemed that the cameras were always there to catch our every move.