The Cool Kid
Our new place sits across from an elementary school on a slightly busy road off the main drag in Mountain View. There’s orchestrated chaos twice a day when kids are dropped off and picked up in front of our house. One daily highlight is seeing middle school-aged storks and geese roll by: young teen girls storking on their bicycles, pulling on the bars and standing while pedaling instead of shifting out of the big ring (storking), with a gaggle of young teen boys rolling by a few minutes later, their prepubescent voices breaking in unison (like geese) excitedly about stuff in general.
Then there’s the cool kid.
He’s easy to spot: no helmet, frizzy hair, metal band t-shirt, Vans or Chucks, Ben Davis or Dickies pants, effortlessly pulling a righteous wheelie for several blocks while carrying on a conversation with pals.