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Tales from the Hotshop....

I always make a point of stopping by the Hotshop on my way home from the beach, it's always a great place to check out skate and skim stuff, shoot the shit, and take some abuse. Here's a story from one my earlier trips over 20 years ago....

hotshop

I always make a point of stopping by the Hotshop on my way home from the beach, it's always a great place to check out skate and skim stuff, shoot the shit, and take some abuse. Here's a story from one my earlier trips over 20 years ago....

When I hit 12, every penny I made went into skateboarding, no more hockey cards, no more candy, just skating. PD’s was (and still is) THE PLACE to buy skate and skimboard stuff, I would have gone there every day if I could, but instead I could only make the trek out there every couple weeks. On this particular occasion I had a certain Rat Bone’s sticker in mind.

I commonly went first thing in the morning, as soon as the shop opened. Puberty hadn’t hit super nova and I was still on my cartoon schedule, getting up early. On this occasion when I got there, even though it was opening time, PD wasn’t around. Luckily, the Hot shop was right next a corner store that was always great places to kill time. A cornerstore was like an oasis: videogames, pornomags, fireworks…everything. A couple games later of ‘Rambo’, I went out and saw PD saunter towards the store.

I ran out and stood right behind him as he opened the door. I knew he saw me, but he gave me the slip, letting the door close behind him before I could sneak in. I went to open the door and he turned and said “I have to vacuum dude…’ He was already late, and I didn’t know why he had problems with me watching him perform his domestic duties, but I thought…..whatever…Ratbones sticker…. I could wait.

I went back into the corner store. While playing video games, some kid who must have been about 9, was just hovering over me. Performance anxiety was starting to kick in like I was lined up at a urinal, and it was affecting my game play. Finally, I had enough and got right into his face. The kid blurted out, “Ah you boy oh gehl?’. ‘What?!”, I asked. I was pissed, not only did this kid ruin my game, he could barely speak. Again he asked me, now he was getting annoyed….‘BOY….OH… GEHL!?!??” he asked, this time really loud.

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!?” I asked, then I realized what was going on…This was a 9 year old deaf kid asking me if I was a boy or a girl. Like a lot of skaters around that time, I had a version of the ‘squeeb’ going on, with long bangs. I think I was wearing hot pink and blue quicksilver shorts too, which didn’t help, nor did my glasses. In hindsight, I totally looked like a girl and this kid was letting me know it. He had me. What do you say? I had nothing, even if I did, the kid was f***ing deaf. I couldn’t win….At this point, I was out of change and I was way too shaky to have the nerve to look at the porno mags, I had to leave, so back with the intent of watching PD vacuum.

I peered in the store and now PD couldn’t even be seen, there was no vacuuming going on what so ever. Now I what was I going to do? There wasn’t anything left for me to do other than stand out front and wait. 20 minutes later, I see Pd walking down the street towards the shop. Is this ground hog day? I guess so, I thought as PD slipped past me again. This time I straight up followed him in. “I have to vacuum dude..” I don’t know how declaring the necessity to perform of a household chore becomes a threat, but it felt like one, it certainly wasn’t any sort of invite, so I decided not to push it.

Not wanting to risk any more humiliation playing video games, I went back to the bus stop and waited, and waited. This was one of those times in my life, I had to take a real hard look at myself. Who am I? Why am I here? I can’t go back to playing with wrestling dolls. I turned around and marched right back into the store. I was a skateboarder, and I was going to buy that sticker to prove it. I didn’t care how many deaf kids called me a girl, and I most certainly didn’t care about vacuuming.

That was until I entered the shop. The sound was deafening. To my surprise, PD was actually vacuuming, and very intently, almost like he was enjoying it. I stood there for a few minutes, the noise of the machine was so loud that even if I had something to say, he wouldn’t have heard it. So I left.

This didn’t deter me from going back, I got over the trauma on the bus ride home. I returned a week later and got the sticker I wanted so desperately, in fact I got another Skull sticker free too. I learned that this is what you expect from a real skate shop. You never quite know what you are going to get. This is what drew me to the place, it wasn’t Sears department store, it wasn’t Kiddie Kobbler, it wasn’t a doctor’s office. A shop like this is organic, it’s not dictated by some corporate mandate, no charts, no graphs…these guys sell boards... 20 years later, I still go by PD’s Hot Shop in Kits on the way back from the beach, and sometimes the ‘be back in 5’ sign is up for more like 15, but it’s still well worth the wait. In a world where trends are rammed down your throat and heros are disposed of…sometimes keeping things exactly the same is the most refreshing thing possible.