The Forbidden Dance
He doesn’t care what kind of skier you are. He won’t discriminate, expert, beginner, or terminal novice alike. He is the skier’s oldest and most persistent foil, on a long enough timeline the day will come that you find yourself face to face with, The Rope. The Rope’s orange color gives it an officious look, as it hangs there looking stern. Often times there are additional medallions of warning, badges on a deputized strand of nylon. Rope wants you to know he has his eye on you.
For the most part Monsieur rope and I ignore each other. He might be over there looking grumpy but I’m not going to let him ruin my good time. Rope is like the kid who won’t share the sandbox. He can try to defend his patch but it certainly won’t stop me from having fun where I am. As if his sand is all that special. Rope is stuck over there just waiting to defend some kind of strange principle and I’m over here having a great time so nuts to him… That is until the day comes, the day that will always come, the day that you come face to face with The Rope.
Rope tries too hard to be official. Rope desperately wants you to believe that he means something, that he is something. He certainly doesn’t want you to realize that he isn’t a person at all, that he has no authority whatsoever, and is in fact nothing more than a bunch of tightly woven strands of synthetic material, albeit bright orange. Rope tries way too hard to be official. It’s as if he enjoys enforcing the rules. It’s almost as if rope is over there in his rent-a-cop uniform, and he might be… he is… he is laughing at you.
Let’s be clear here. Often times, most times in fact, the rope is there for good reason. No one is trying to ruin your good time. Yeah, it seems like he is being a wet sandwich but he really is looking out for your own safety. Kind of like the time my friend’s dad told us not to pop the huge bubble on the beach that turned out to be a massive stranded jellyfish. I thought it was a huge bubble. The Rope is really just preventing you from encountering one of the many perils that can be found beyond it. That is except for those other times… that rope might be… he is… that rope is laughing at you.
I can see it, you can see it, the rope can see it It is clear as day. That is skiable terrain over there. The Rope doubts it. The Rope will not listen to reason, he does not peddle in logic of any variety. If you attempt to argue with The Rope he will only antagonize you further.
“You’re a jerk Rope.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Damn you Rope.”
Rope will stand smugly, your growing furiocity only feeding his over inflated sense of legitimacy. So it’s going to be like that? It’s a showdown.
The thing about rope you see, is that although he might look strong, he really isn’t all that fast. You look in both directions, there is no one in sight. Like that you’ve slipped through Rope’s clutches. He howls in protest,
“Go ahead Rope, scream all you want, no one will ever here you out here.”
Rope is left standing red faced, seething in embarrassment, there is nothing more he can do. I know however, and he knows it as well, the day will come soon that we will meet each other once more.