Childhood trauma #47:
I can't listen to Ravel's Bolero. Cause when Torville and Dean won the ice skating thingy in about 1980, this really bossy kid at school (you know who you are, Beverley Dawson) decided that for about 3 fucking months we would play torville and dean - a game which comprised of pairing off with another kid and making up a "dance routine" so that you could pretend you were figure skating on the bumpy sloping tarmac, after which, she'd judge you to be not quite as good as her, and the next day, you'd have to play as the Belgian team. And cause Beverley Dawson was inexplicably popular, if you didn't play, there was no one else to play with. (I wasn't gonna play with boys, for god's sake!)

I got my own back though. Later, we had a craze where you'd stand in the middle, two friends at either side would hold your hands tightly, and you could basically do a kind of forward roll in mid air, with your two friends supporting you. Beverley Dawson was the tallest girl in our class. So when it was her turn to do the forward roll, and it was mine and Kimberley Devine's turn to hold her hands, we accidentally let her head scrape on the same bumpy sloping tarmac.

Oops.