I mean, I knew I wouldn't be good at it. I was 26 at the time and we all know only 3-year-olds can learn to ski. I'm highly uncoordinated and not particularly fond of layering. But Frank sold me on the idea because he said after we skied I could sit in a hot tub and drink hot cocoa. Or wine. Or better yet, a shot of tequila.
I also knew that we were staying with his brother in Durango--about 30 minutes from the slopes. I was fully aware that we weren't staying at some fancy ski resort with a log cabin and a warm fireplace with easy access to a hot tub from the slopes. But for some reason I kept imagining it that way.
Another false daydream I had was that the bunny slope would be much like a North Texas driveway. I thought perhaps I would try that a little while and then move on to a more challenging hill--like a Central Texas driveway.
But when we got there I saw that no bunny could survive this slope. I took a lesson and at first I seemed to be the star pupil. "Maybe I'm a natural skier!" I thought. But after about an hour one of the two teachers, Liam, had to separate me from the class and help me privately. And no, it's not because he was hitting on me. I'm not that hot. I really just sucked. I was that kid.
I tried skiing for at least an hour with private instructor Liam. I couldn't get off the lift--fell every time. I couldn't make it down the hill--crashed into several other bunny slopers. I hated it. I couldn't wait for the day to be over. And where was my tequila?
But then Frank showed up to watch me. I think he had been skiing on a yellow or purple or whatever they call those other hills. I don't understand their complicated color-coding system.
He waited for me at the bottom of the hill and I started skiing towards him. As usual I started to lose control of my skis but for some reason, I stayed upright. And I think I was turning too. There might have even been some "swoosh, swoosh" noises. I was getting closer and closer to Frank and I yelled for him to get out of the way--Liam and I hadn't gone over stopping yet! But then I was at the bottom of the hill and I just stopped. "Wow!" Frank said, "You learned a lot in one lesson!" I was so thrilled--I had skied down quite a challenging hill all by myself! Then Frank said, "Now we can ride the lift and ski down the hill together."
What? Didn't he see? I had already skied. Done. Check it off the list of "things to do before I die" or at least before I turn 30.
So I didn't ski again. And I don't plan to. You can call me a quitter. You can call me a loser. But I say I'm just someone who quits while I'm ahead. I go out on out a high note. And then I get into the hot tub. But not with Liam.
I don't care if I'm miserable. I still gotta try to look cute.
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