I went snowboarding once, and that was my last time and final time going snowboarding. You move to California and you just think that you can do everything that everyone else does. I didn't even have gear, I just threw on some mess from my closet. I look like a bum with too many clothes on. I had smeared a bunch of Vaseline on my face because when I was a kid my mom use to put that on my face. I thought she did it to keep me warm. On this trip, I put too much, they called me Shiny Face Man. I spent most of my time on the bunny slopes which is where amatuers hang out when you don't want to go too fast. Well, I became cocky quick. I didn't even go to the medium, I skipped that and went immediately to the largest hill. Keep in mind, I never learned how to stop the snowboard. I'm not sure how I forgot that key information. First and last time down the hill, I'm traveling at a speed that was beyond my control. At a far distance away, I see a young child in pink snowgear traveling horizontally, which was odd. I also noticed that the direction that I'm traveling toward is the same as hers. "Oh no." I couldn't turn, I couldn't slow down, I couldn't yell for help. I was yelling. I was saying, "Oh no. Move little girl, stop or something!!" I was going so fast. Crackhead fast. Then finally me and little white girl collide. I flip and fall. Her skis flew in the air. One actually landed vertically into the ground near me. It looked like a gangsta rapper demolished a Disney pop star. I didn't get up. I stayed down there in the snow, because if the little white girl was hurt, I might as well have been dead. I felt so bad, not physically, but in my heart. My buddy Chris that tricked me into doing this crap says, "Mike, you should probably apologize." And I did. I'll never forget her dad's face. He was boiling. He looked at me like I was O.J. Simpson.