PHOTOS BY CHRIS NIERATKO (SORT OF)
Girl skateboarders aren’t hot. It’s just how it is. I wish they were but they’re not. It’s a dude’s activity and so they feel they need to act/dress the part of a dude to get accepted. The premier girl skateboarder is and always will be Elissa Steamer, and for the better part of her career she dressed, drank, and acted like a dude (not that there’s anything wrong with that…). It wasn’t until recent years that she found and embraced her inner sexy mama and really started getting dolled up. And you know what? Under her oversize dude jeans and t-shirt was a hot tamale.
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Within the past two years a new girl skater has started to emerge and Elissa has taken her under her wing. Elissa’s protégé is a young gal from just outside of Chicago named Marisa del Santos.
Marisa is badass. She has to be—she rides for Zero Skateboards. If you’re unaware what that means, it means she rides for the skateboard company that jumps down the biggest stairs, grinds the gnarliest handrails, and generally gets the hairiest (in the case of Marisa that applies to both her skating and her armpits). I am a huge fan and supporter of Marisa and that says a lot because all girl skaters suck (except Elissa). They skate with what I call “puffy butt,” which is when they stick their asses way out like their jeans were full of Charmin like in those old toilet-paper commercials. You may think a woman sticking her ass way out during any activity sounds sexy. It’s not. Not sure how to explain it but it’s painful to look at.
Marisa doesn’t skate with puffy butt. Neither does Elissa. (I know, the names sort of rhyme, and yes, I have thought about them both naked together many times.) They jump down shit that most dudes would pee themselves if they even thought about ollieing.
Recently I interviewed young Marisa for my mild-mannered day job at The Skateboard Mag. I quickly learned that not only has she never gotten L’d, she’s never even kissed a boy. She had never even been on a date. (Side note: “L’d” is a new term for me. I learned it from one of our 14-year-old skaters at our Hoboken Skateshop. Back in April, Eric said he was going to the school dance and was going to get L’d. “What’s that?” I asked. I thought it was a new drug term. No, it’s short for “laid.” I knew F’d but had never heard L’d. So I bet Eric that he wouldn’t get L’d at the dance. His dad owns a burrito spot, and I bet him one burrito that he wouldn’t get L’d. I’m not sure what he was going to win if he did get L’d but it doesn’t matter because he didn’t get L’d. And four months later he still owes me a burrito. I WANT MY BURRITO, ERIC!)
It broke my heart. Recently my wife said she wasn’t really comfortable having sex during the last month of the pregnancy. I found myself in a state of confusion and disarray. I know that it takes a few months for a woman to get back to having sex after the baby, which meant I was looking at three months without having sex. I have not gone three months without getting L’d since I started getting L’d 20 years ago. I’m not certain I’ll survive this stretch.
So you can see how the idea of Marisa NEVER having sex would pain me. Sex is really all I know—sex and skateboarding. Those are the two things I’ve been doing in my life the longest. I’m not saying I’m very good at either but I am, at the very least, knowledgeable on the topics. And I really enjoy them. I cannot relate to a life without them.
I decided I had to help Marisa. I had to change her life. I had to do the only thing that could be done.
I had to take Marisa del Santos’s virginity.
Well, not me personally but someone of my choosing.
I told her that I would arrange for a glamorous Vice makeover and a date for her. She agreed to it, thinking I was full of hot shit. But I wasn’t. Not this time. She was my new crusade. Sometimes I get bored with my life and I feel like I need to do things with purpose. Last month was giving skateboards to kids in Cuba (more on that in a future issue), this month it was getting Marisa L’d.
I went to Vice UK’s editor, Andy Capper, and explained the situation to him. I always go to him first with my ideas because he speaks some weird dialect I cannot understand and he also has a hard time understanding me; this lack of translation causes us to agree to things we don’t fully comprehend or would never consider otherwise just so we can get off the phone with each other. He requested I send an email of my pitch so he could show the others because “Aye cannah undahstained whut yay sane.” I don’t know what the fuck that means but I did hear “pitch” and “email.”
So I sent an email with a photo of a smiling Marisa that read, “This cute 21-year-old girl is a semipro skateboarder who has never been kissed or been on a date. I want to clean her up with a Vice makeover and get her laid. Are you in? Do you remember your first kiss? Well, let’s do this in the name of romance and goodwill! See that pretty smile of hers? Let’s put a dick in it!”
They agreed to it and two weeks later I was on a plane to LA to meet Marisa and have her get made over in Silver Lake.
When I met Marisa at the Beverly Laurel Motor Hotel she was not psyched. The reality of it all was setting in and she did not care for the idea of a makeover or for me.
“I don’t want to do this,” she said.
“It’s gonna be great,” I told her.
She tried to argue against getting dolled up, about wearing anything but her own, regular skate clothes, against makeup, against photos, and basically against everything I’d set up.
“Do you want me to buy you some beer and cigarettes?” I asked her. She said yes.
I thought it might calm her down.
It didn’t.
Marisa was super-bummed by each and every choice of attire, hairstyle, and bit of makeup.
The stylist and makeup gal were looking at me for answers with pained hearts. I dismissed everything. “She’s fine,” I said. “She’ll be fine. Proceed.”
And in the end she was fine. F-I-N-E, fine. Marisa cleaned up really good and by the last outfit she was looking like a young and sexy Gina Gershon. Had I not been married I would have L’d her.
Despite it all, I wanted more than anything to help Marisa experience some romance. A kiss, perhaps, if not some actual wang (my porn-star friend Joanna Angel offered to lend me her porn-star boyfriend, James Deen, to get the job done). Sadly, I swim in a seedy circle. Like I mentioned, my two worlds are sex and skateboarding. Most people in either of those worlds are less than desirable or classy. They are not the type of wolves you’d want a sweet little sheep like Marisa to date or kiss.
And so it is with great sadness that I must tell you that my mission was a complete failure (aside from giving Marisa a makeover that made her look stunning). I opted against subjecting her to an uncomfortable date, under the scrutiny of my camera and me. Instead she went on a nice, pleasant lunch date with a married man at his favorite Italian restaurant, Caffe Carrera on La Cienega (across from the LFP/old Big Brother building).
She had the spaghetti.
I had the penne.
I held her hand as I walked her back to my rental car.