No, I’m not taking flying lessons. It just seemed like a good title.
I’m learning to ride the ZBoard, which is…kinda like flying, in a way. For me.
The ZBoard, for anyone random reading this, is a skateboard that goes on its own, powered by a big battery, and controlled by two pads. One is ‘Go-go-go’, and the other is, ‘SHIT WHERE THE FUCK DID I LEAVE THE BRAKE’. It weighs nearly 30lbs, and it’s kinda pricey.
I hardly need to actually write a post, since I just gave everything away in the title, and I’ve already explained how I’m basically a supermassive black hole of self-involvement. But, well, I’m going to anyway. I got permission, and I haven’t written anything in a while.
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So, I left the house yesterday.
I almost didn’t. I actually wanted to back out right after I’d put my coat on, because I was feeling horribly dizzy. But I didn’t. Even though I’d just been woken up, thrown into the bath, and had only had, like, two sips of Coke.
We ended up at this restaurant somewhere in the 16th Street Mall. That’s…well, I don’t think most of my five readers know much about Denver, so it’s…I dunno. Not really a mall so much as this really weird place with ‘streets’ that only these magical [and free] hybrid bus things, rickshaw-things, and horse-drawn things [sub-tangent: some day, I’m totally going to ask one of those dudes if I can pet the horse, because some of them are, like, smallish Clydesdales or something, and I have this weird compulsion to pet identifiable breeds of things] are allowed. Also, there are buskers everywhere, and I, personally, find it hard to tell if some of them are just busking, or are legit crazy homeless people.
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