Guy on the C-train, part II: Jump-roping Odyssey

I made the mistake of doing my (now) 1300 jumps in a different section of the park today -- in the more secluded basketball court where kids play, not big boys. There were two kids playing a seemingly innocent game. The little girl had a wandering eye and a unibrow and the bigger kid was chubby with cheek dimples. I guess they tired of playing basketball and wandered over to my section while i was on jump number 732. At first they were deeply impressed and I of course had no choice but to ignore them and jump faster so they'd think I was really really cool. Which they did.

After a while they started making some comments like 'i bet you can't do the spiderman' to which i have to answer in mid-jump, well what's the spiderman and apparently its this really really cool jump that only really really cool jumpropers can do and it involves throwing your rope over your head and then jumping over it while catching it before you or it hits the ground. So I of course had to bow my head and admit that, no, i can't do the spiderman, trying to hide my shame. The follow-up question is of course, well....what about the Matrix? Can you do the Matrix? (the Matrix being another one of these jumps that only really really cool jumpropers can do which involves actually coming to a complete halt in mid-air and making everything around you move backwards except for your rope with which you're going to do a double). And I, being only a mediocre, no-tricks kind of jumper, can do neither.

It was a painful experience. I'm sure that either one of them, if armed with a jump rope that 'tings' or maybe one with pink handles and streamers could out-Matrix me in a heartbeat. I had to give up some of my Starbursts to regain my cool, and I think now the universal order has been restored, though not without effort.

So after that ego-beating, I'm walking back from the park all sweaty. I see the mosaic guy again and he's still there with his tarp -- not evicted yet. Somewhere in between the mosaic guy and the guy in the suit with the pink tie, I notice a familiar face. Its the guy I met on the C-train the other day! The one that asked me for my number! He's shorter than I remember. And it looks like he may be holding hands with a stout, dark woman with a large bust in a black halter, but I will just have to be satisfied with knowing that I will never really know.

And THAT is precisely why I'm against this whole idea of relationships. You just never know whose number your significant other is asking for.