"Thump, thump... thump, thump... thump, thump," rattled through my head like the beating of a Native American drum as the car charted across the highway 93 bridge into Boston.
             I was with three of my friends who lived in Massachusetts. We entered the city. The buildings were so huge, they were hypnotic, all I could do was stare in awe at the mighty achievements.
             "This is gonna be dope, I've been waiting all summer to skate Boston!" I said. "I hope we don't get pinched." I heard the cops in Boston didn't especially care for skateboarders. I heard plenty of stories about kids getting arrested and/or getting their boards taken away, neither of those sounded like much fun to me.
             "Where do I park?" said Adam, who was driving.
             A symphonic "I don't know" came from the three of us. Luckily it was about 8 o' clock on a Tuesday night so the traffic was only awful. After about thirty minutes of looking, we finally found a parking spot. We began skating to the financial district.
             As we rolled up to the first stop we were advised to leave by a lowly security guard. So we headed up the block to a gargantuan building with marble ledges glimmering everywhere. I felt like a kid in a candy store. We wasted no time assaulting the ledges because we knew we could be kicked out at any moment. The sound of clicking, clacking, and grinding filled the midsummer night's air as if it was in Bose Surround Sound. Like four sharks lost in a feeding frenzy, we were racing this way and that, but constantly on the look out for cops. I was surprised at how long we skated there. It was a good twenty minutes before another security guard informed us that we weren't allowed to skate there.
             We then skated around the area randomly doing tricks on this or that, pretty much just having a good time when I came up with a brilliant idea. "Why don't we skate ...