I ride up to the spot real slow on my Bianchi Pista, being sure to angle myself so that the sun’s glare off the top tube flashes subtly yet brightly enough to alert everyone at the spot of my arrival. As I dismount my Pista, I issue a single head nod to their filmer and ignore everyone else. After securing my Pista in an out-of-the-way yet inescapably visible spot, I proceed to remove a jump rope from the racket bag slung around my shoulder. I begin skipping rope at an intense yet controlled rate, displaying my precise footwork and elegant streetwise form in profile to everyone at the spot. I skip rope until a light peppering of sweat permeates throught to the exterior of my heather grey sweatshirt. I cease my skipping and calm my breathing as I stare ominously into the distance with my hands on my hips. Having candidly captured a long lens shot of my arrival routine from a block away, Waylon Bone walks up with my board in one hand, a San Pellegrino in the other and a discreet camera bag on his back. We chat for a bit and I mention how Bobby Puleo put me onto this spot years ago. I then step on my board, push twice, and execute a perfect nollie back 180. Then two switch mongo pushes into a perfect switch back 180. I roll back to over Waylon and give him my board just as a gaggle of geese arrive. I sling my racket bag over my shoulder, mount my Pista and pedal away as Waylon captures another long lens shot of my OG white Adidas Sambas strapped into the toe cages of my pedals.
Topic: When you go to the spot alone and people you don’t know are there (Read 5511 times)