Saturday, February 22, 2014

Skis that (Don't) Please

With the click of the "ok" button, I was giddy at the thought of owning a brand new pair of snow skis and could hardly contain my excitement at the anticipation of their arrival within the next seven to ten business days.  You see, these weren't just any ordinary skis I had just purchased online.  They were fashion K2 Super Sweet snow skis in pink, purple and white (of course).  Now I would look like the bad-ass skier I had become over the course of the past twenty years--even though I'd only actually skied less than a dozen times in my life.

It didn't matter.  For someone as unathletically inclined as I, I skied like an Olympics gold medalist.  Okay, so maybe that's a bit of a stretch--but not much.  I reveled in my intermediate-level skiing and was anxious to prove to Jeremy, yet again, that I am not as uncoordinated as he thinks.  I impressed the hell out of him last year at Lake Tahoe, so I know he'd be equally awed as I carved those fluffly Colorado slopes like a Thanksgiving turkey with my very own equipment this time.

Mom and Dad tried to warn me not to be overzealous and order the first pair of shiny skis I saw.  "You'll hate hauling heavy skis through the airport.  Just rent for awhile until you decide what you really want."  Pish posh!  I am gonna love these skis.  How could I not enjoy skis that bear my signature color?  I don't even mind lugging them through the airport.  It will be good exercise before I hit the slopes!.......famous last words.

So the week of our ski trip arrived and it was time to check out the rental place so Jeremy could get all set up with his boots and skis for the week--the amateur.  When the rental guy looked at me and asked if I needed skis as well, I turned up my nose just a tiny bit and replied, "No thanks, I've got my own."  I think I saw a hint of surprise in his (probably stoned) baby browns.  Surely he was impressed that I was an owner...or maybe it was my imagination.  But there comes a certain satisfaction in assuring a twenty-something stoner who lived for the sport that I don't need his crappy rental Salomons for the week.

The following morning (day 1 of skiing), Jeremy and I boarded the gondola that swiftly rushed us up the mountain, and I clicked into those K2s with ease and anticipation.  I was ready to start on the nearest blue run I could find.  Why waste my time on a menial green?  Those were for "beginners."  Off I went!  I was a little surprised to find moguls on the first blue I encountered, but by God, I got this.

Then...uh oh, why aren't these skis turning with the ease and smoothness I remember?  I proceeded to make my way down the mountain with arms and legs flailing, much like that of a cat being submerged in a bathtub of tepid water against its will.  I'm not sure what took more of a beating--my out-of-shape, 32-year old body or my overinflated ego.  Either way, I realized with resentment that (sigh) Mom and Dad were right.  I rushed into this decision with reckless abandon.  Now I have to unload $700 worth of ski equipment on some other unsuspecting sap with delusions about her own skiing ability.  Well (insert colorful expletive here).

I rarely admit that my parents were right--and certainly not in a public forum such as this blog.  It's amazing what a $700 "live and learn" experience can do to break one's will.  If there hadn't been such a sizable chunk of money invested in those damn skis, I would have offered them to a random baggage handler at the airport for a measly hundred bucks just so I wouldn't have to cart those bulky SOBs home only to have them mock me while resting in the storage closet upstairs.

I honestly hope to make at least some of my money back on those wretched skis, which I can then turn into a pair or two of shiny new shoes.  I'll surely get more use out of those anyway.  Besides, I'm willing to endure physical pain for an accessory that makes me at least look good--unlike those clunky Robocop ski boots that pinch my toes in places I wasn't even aware I had nerve endings!

In the meantime, if anyone is interested in buying a pair of hardly-used, high-fashion skis, I will make you a GREAT price.  I guarantee you're gonna love 'em!

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