I used to be a disco roller queen. Actually, I’m a little too young for disco, so I suppose I was an 80s roller queen. I spent a lot of time on roller skates as a kid, at the rink and also outside with friends. We raced, choreographed routines and also pretended to be roller skating waitresses, complete with my own official menu pad. I had a lot of fun on those four wheels, but now that I’m older and clumsier than ever, it’s time to pass the roller queen torch on to Caroline.
Caroline’s one and only request while in Florida was to go to the Roller Barn. We don’t have a roller skating rink around here that doesn’t require a long drive, so this was a request I did my best to honor. The Roller Barn is a dump. It’s old, stinky, dingy and in dire need of refurbishment, but it’s a huge part of childhood in my town. Perhaps the dumpiness of the Roller Barn is part of its charm? By the time we moved to Florida when I was 15, I was too old to enjoy the charm of the Roller Barn. My younger sister, like most kids her age, had a birthday party at the Roller Barn once. It’s just how things are done around there.
On our final full day in Florida, I honored Caroline’s burning desire to visit the Roller Barn.
I sincerely apologize for the horrible picture quality. I’m kind of embarrassed to post them because they’re of such poor quality. Taking action shots in a dark roller skating rink is definitely not my forte. However, neither is pride, so I’ll just share them. I’m sure I’ve posted worse things before.
Not going to lie, I cringed when Caroline rested her chin on that carpet covered wall. I tried my best not to think about the germ infestation hiding within those walls…
or the floor. Shiver.
Aside from just skating in circles, the Roller Barn hosted whole slew of events.
Here’s Caroline, waiting for her turn to race.