Skiing went well. I'm excluding the part where I was sent catapulting down a black run going "OW!" all the way. It goes as follows.
I get off the chairlift, which hits me on the ass as I glide down the ramp.
"OW!"
A snowboarder gets off the chair lift and crashes into me.
"OW!"
Everything goes smoothly for a little while, then I get to the top of the steep black. No problem, I think, I already did this once, and I am a pretty confident skier. Away I go! Sweeping down the mountain just how dad taught me. Then, in an act of pure grace, I fall.
"OW!"
I tumble majestically down the steep slope-luckily no one else was on it at the time-on my side, snow everywhere. I look at my dad, who is getting smaller in the distance and I grin, shouting "Bye, Dad!", sort of like when Alice falls down the white rabbit hole crying "Goodbye, Dinah, goodbyeee!" except with more snow. It doesn't look like I'm going to stop anytime soon, and I'm starting to feel pain. Dad, a very good skier, tries to get in front of me to stop me, but then-
"OW!"
Anyone who has seen my dad knows he is not a small man, and he trips over and lands on my legs.
"OW!"
My right ski comes off, along with one of Dads', and they are left on the hill as Dad and I slide down at 60 mph. Dad is sliding away from me know, leaving me to spin around backwards.
"OW!"
That last one was more an "OW!" of joy. I opened my eyes and proclaimed with happiness and surprise. "We've stopped!" I'm sitting on my sore ass, knees bent, legs in opposite direction, and one is ski-less, but I'm smiling, because we've stopped.
"ow"
My pride whimpers as I look up. Not only did everyone on the chairlift see my wipe out (some were applauding) but there is a line of people at the top of the hill, staring at me, covered from head to foot in cold cold cold snow. Dad has to come over on one ski and help me up. Some nice old guy picked up our skis and came down the mountain with them. He looks at me strangely as I thank him profusely and then tell him to forget my face or I'll kill him.
My pride made a series of small "ows" after that. An older lady, about 49-50, who was a ski patroller and had the same ski goggles as me, said she saw me from the chairlift, and a guy on the ride with her muttured "Now probably wouldn't be a good time to yell 'YEEHAW!', huh?".
A couple of people whispered amongst themselves when I passed saying "Hey, is that the girl who went all the way down the black run on her ass?". The nice ski patroller lady was at the gate when we left and laughed out "Hey, you're famous now! There she is Joe, the girl who tackled the black run with her butt!" Joe laughed, and needless to say, I'm going to murder his children. A group of young children-we're talking 6 and 7- were conversing about their very first ski lesson, and how they could already do the black run with no problems. Then, the kicker.
"OW!"
In the parking lot, I look back on the mountain with content after a great day skiing with my old man. I can see the black run, and everyone on it clearly. "Dad?" I ask, "Does this mean that...?" My dad nods.
Yes. Everyone in the parking lot saw my exhibition of how NOT to do a black run.
"OW!"