I asked a friend of mine where Ice Girl was. She told me that Ice Girl was in the locker room.
We used the locker room for the skate show a month ago, so I was familiar with it. The locker room is located at the base of the rink, where the teams enter and exit the ice, directly across the bottleneck of parents and swarming hockey squirts.
I entered the locker room and the door shut behind me. In front of me was a team of half-dressed high school hockey players. They screeched. I screeched. Then I turned tail and fled.
When I exited the dressing room, two figure skating coaches were staring at me, wide-eyed. It was pretty clear that they had heard the screeching. There was no ducking out of it, so I laughed. They laughed, too. It was pretty funny, actually.
I led the laughing coaches away from the dressing rooms and out of the rink to the club room. I figured they'd follow me to hear my outrageous story and I thought that none of the hockey guys would be able to identify me if I made a quick get away.
Naturally, the coaches have told every figure skating parent and her child about this. Embarrassing stories travel fast.
Two good things:
- The coaches and parents had an interesting discussion about those hockey players and their modesty issues. It's pretty ironic that the boys were screeching (high-pitched and girly) when I entered the locker room. These boys are the same ones who walk around in towels after a 6 a.m. Friday morning hockey practice. They seem to believe the entire lobby is their locker room. Coaches and parents are uncomfortable with the towel prancing and I think we're going to approach the hockey coaches. (Outside the locker room, of course.)
- Ice Girl, 12, was not in the locker room with the half-naked hockey players. *whew*
- Um. Ask a coach if the dressing room/locker room is occupied. Duh, Ice Mom.
- Laugh. This isn't a figure skating lesson, but it's a good thing, anyway. As a newbie, I'm making mistakes all over the place. This one won't be the last, so I might as well enjoy the journey to enlightenment.
- Mustache. I know where they sell those fake, stick-on mustaches. Maybe the entire team won't know it was me if I show up at the rink with one of those above my lip and another across my eyebrow. In fact, maybe I should buy fake mustaches in bulk.