By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
Suddenly there are five sets of furrowed eyebrows staring back at me across the table. "You like cats a lot?"
"Not, like, a lot a lot," I say, my eyes bugging as I mimic squeezing a tiny baby kitty. "I just like them."
I proceed to tell these people that I'm a bad driver and that my favorite Stars player is backup goalie Mike Smith, "because everybody probably totally told you they liked Mike Modano, who is of course my other favorite because he's super hot, but Mike Smith is majorly sexy too." I have the mind of a 16-year-old girl who draws horses on her notebooks and watches Kyle XY. I might as well have told them my thoughts on the continuing recording career of Fall Out Boy. This is what I get for focusing solely on how being an Ice Girl will get me in the sack with Mike Modano.
At least the trivia quiz wasn't so bad. And I still had my skating. I headed downstairs to the rink to get some practice skates. The woman behind the counter heaved a pair in my direction.
My heart stopped.
Hockey skates. Unlike figure skates, hockey skates don't have a toe pick, which is what I'd planned on using to make graceful stops. God never intended for me to wear hockey skates! I did manage to navigate between the orange cones set out on the ice and scoop up a hockey puck with one hand. I did not manage to stop anywhere near the prescribed red line. In the process, I accidentally twirled in four circles, ending with my rear end facing the judges, which I promptly shook several times in a pathetic attempt to be cute.
I will not, sadly, be scraping icy residue during home games this season, something I'm reminded of every time I find a little yellow Velcro roller smushed between car seat cushions or peeking out from beneath a week-old Jack in the Box sack. And with each one, a little part of me dies, because I know the distance between myself and Mike Modano grows ever greater.