My heart would skip a beat every time I walked into the Queen/Euclid Darkhorse and spotted him. He always sat at the same table, reading a paper or an iPad, and drinking a coffee. He made my summer. At promptly at 8:45, he would stand up and skateboard off into the distance.

This man wasn’t a young heart throb, but rather a man I came to call Skateboard Dad. Catching a glimpse of Skateboard Dad is like spotting a unicorn in the city, or something. He was well-groomed, as if he was heading straight into an extremely corporate job—but his preferred mode of transportation was a skateboard. The combination of a button-up oxford shirt and a skateboard was a lot to handle, and hilarity (in my mind) ensued.

Although I cannot confirm whether or not this man is legitimately a father, he had the look of one attempting to be a Cool Guy—like Phil Dunphy from Modern Family. He would prop his skateboard up at the end of his table at Darkhorse and just hang. Skateboard Dad didn’t drink from to-go mugs, oh no; he preferred the coffee mugs that you use in the comfort of your own home. Imagine watching a grown man skate down Palmerston, casually taking sips from a mug as he goes! Perfection.

My love for Skateboard Dad grew each time I spotted him and yet, I will never be able to put my finger on exactly why I enjoyed seeing him so much. I went to Darkhorse almost every day of the summer, walking in with my fingers crossed, hoping he would be sitting at his table. It was a letdown when he wasn’t, and a day-maker when he was. My route to the office has changed (because…I don’t have an office now…), so my Skateboard Dad sightings have ceased to exist. But even if I never see him again, I’ll always have the memories of the coolest guy I have (n)ever known.