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[JOHNSON-2]

     “This is really cool stuff,” I pointed over to some of the trucks, ball bearings, and different assortment of skateboard wheels that lined the wall of this store.  Knowing quite well I could not afford any of the accessories here; it was more of a window shopping experience, “One day, I’m gonna get that.  That.  That.  And, that.”
     “How about that one?”  Johnson asked.
     “No.  You want that one,” I pointed to a different set of wheels, “Those are softer.  Y’know?  For a more cushy ride.  Well, I guess it depends what you’re after.”
     “Oh. I get it,” he replied.
     There we stood in the Scandinavian shop located on 57th Street off of Fifth Avenue.  I drooled and daydreamed.  Johnson stood by and observed.  All I currently owned was a yellow plastic skateboard that my parents bought me from a toy store for fourteen dollars.  It was sturdy and reliable, but it was nothing in comparison to the boards that hung from the walls in this store.  Each accessory for the boards here cost at least twice that of my yellow plastic board.  Someday.  Someday, I will have one of these.
     It was an excursion out to Manhattan.  He had never really journeyed into Uptown before, and I wanted to show him around a bit.  The only reason I was familiar with this area was because of my monthly orthodontics appointment that I had been keeping.  With both my parents working, I made the trip up here alone, usually, right after school.
     On the way home from window shopping skateboards, we traveled home via subway.  Bored just to sit in the seats, I suggested that we try the daring maneuver of riding between cars.  At the end of each subway car, was a doorway that led to the next car.  Between the two doorways were small planks, which were not actually touching, one would have to walk across to get to the next car – actually, traveling between the exterior of both subway cars.  On the doors was a sign that read, “No riding between cars.”
     We stepped outside, and let the door slide shut behind us with a bang.  The noise outside was quite remarkable.  The steel wheels traveling across the steel tracks made a loud, continuous, rumbling, clanking sound.  Noticing the handles, we both reached up and grabbed them.  I regained my balance and stepped across to the other car and Johnson stayed on his plank.  We yelled back and forth to each other and noted how great this felt.
 
 

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