Rollerblading In Hyde Park

On Paper

Rollerblading around London’s most iconic park – the opportunity to show off both your “fun side” and athletic ability…

 …and all those hobbies you’ve lied about on your CV.

(There is no hiding from the truth – whilst on wheels.)

In Reality

Friend: “Debs, I’ve found a guy who wants to go on a date with you.”

“What does he look like?”


“Have you got any other pictures?”


“Sold. Send him across.”

We began chatting and he mentioned the idea of rollerblading.

“Have you been rollerblading before?”

I went onto explain (lie) about my natural ability.

“I basically skated out the womb.”



However I still had a number of concerns in regards to my safety (I am lying about everything – I am going to die) so I requested a few protective pieces of clothing (“helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, wrist protectors, boots – with as many wheels on as possible and full body suit if it’s available”) my date seemed confused at my sudden nerves (after my apparent two decades of pro skating) but I managed to save the situation.


So came the day of the date. (D-DayI’m going to break every bone in my body.)

I arrived at Hyde Park Corner, met my date and he handed over my boots:

“You do know the ones with four wheels are for more qualified skaters.”

“Yeh, obviously.


The initial 10 minutes of the date was spent mastering the sport:

“I thought you said you’d done this before?!”
“Yeah – when I was like 5 years old.”
“So you can’t skate?”
“Of course I can’t…”

The following 10 minutes was spent grappling (not sexually)

“Maybe if I knocked you over you would get over the fear?”


But soon my natural flare for all sports kicked in and I was zooming through the park like it was what I was born to do.

“What are you doing now?”
“I’m gliding”

Once I had successfully learnt to skate (“You’re walking with skates on.”) we meandered down the path (I continued to trot) and started to talk about my past dates, past jobs, GCSE results (my entire life since birth) only briefly pausing to admire other acitivites at Hyde Park (dodging rogue horse riders)

“Debbie get out the way of that horse!!”



As the date progressed (I was now onto the very difficult time in my life when my mother had turned on a radiator, not realising my hamster was in there playing hide and seek) we reached my Everest: A Hill

I began to panic:

“Pass the Capri Sun”
“I need a sugar rush.”

I tried to remain composed:




We reached the top…


(“Debbie, its barely a gradient of 10cms. You can stop holding my hand now.”) My date let me go and we admired our accomplishment.

(Then I started rolling back down the hill.)


“Oh for fuck sake!!! PUT THE BRAKES ON!”

After an hour of rollerblading we (he) decided to call it a day (I was still in full flow) and directed me back to the station.

(“You know my father always wanted a son…”)

“Right that’s enough – this is your tube station. Get on the train

“Oh, just quickly what would you give this date out of 10?”
“A ten if you stop talking.”

“Babe – which one is your station?”
“NO WAY?! I can catch that train too. Now, where was I – where it all went wrong…”


Cost: £10 for skates (plus 60 minutes free counselling)

Dangerous Rating: A fantastic date to let off some steam (emotionally) 10 OUT OF 10! 

2 days after the date…


“I will report you to the police if you keep calling.”



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