Walk into White Rock Skate on a Sunday afternoon, and you're back in late middle school, circa 1982. The owner is frantically running about, wearing tight designer pants, making sure his teenage workers are smiling properly. The place is disco-esque, and the roller games--limbo, boy-girl races, the freakin' hokey-pokey--still go on. Most of the kids now bring their own in-line skates, but we still prefer to put on the rink's four-wheel wobblers, impress the gals by skating backward, and even maybe get lucky and make out during a slow skate. Of course, since we're well past 30 and married 10 years, that's usually frowned upon.