Week 7: Hula Hoop

This week, I wanted to learn how to hula hoop for the same reason that you'd want to do cartwheels or yo-yo – just because. So, I bought a hoop and practiced for 5-20 minutes every day yet had little improvement. I tried to find the right songs (this was my favorite) but to no avail. My long-term hope was that this would turn me into a better dancer (a friend also told me that it'd teach me new sex moves). Finally, I realized that I'd purchased a kiddie-sized hula hoop.

A properly-sized hoop is supposed to come to past your belly button if stood on the ground. Mine comes up to my crotch. These kids, a group of boys and girls whose members seem to change daily, play below my balcony after school lets out. I ponder whether to walk down and hand it to one of them but decide that might be creepy (“Here child, this toy barely reaches my crotch. Don't forget to move your hips”). Instead, I wait until a midnight downpour, rush down to lean it against the brick wall of the mail room, and scurry back inside – an anonymous gift because a little mystery costs nothing to give. The hoop was gone the next day.

Hula Hoop Update: I was walking back from the library while reading a book. A car full of college kids sped by, and one of them jolted me from my walking words by screaming "Yo faggggggot!" This angered me and I hoped their car would need to stop at the next light. The light stayed green and they kept speeding along. My anger passed, and I was saddened that someone would scream that at a random stranger, whatever their orientation. I wondered if it was because I'd been reading a book or if it was because I was wearing my grey fedora with a flower stuck in it (many guys seem much less likely than girls to appreciate a fedora. I suspect that this is because they've tried to wear one and failed miserably. I wear mine well and make no apologies. Still, I digress as this post is supposed to focus on a hula hoop). Anyway, I made it home a little more depressed than when I set out and stumbled across that kiddie-sized hula hoop from last week. It was accompanied by four small children who were playing on my stairs. 

"Wow, do you guys know how to hula hoop?" I asked.

Yes, yes they did, and I didn't have to pretend to smile or be impressed.