I went there with my mother to buy my brother a "cup" as part of his baseball uniform but my brother wasn't with us. I think everybody except my mother was kind of embarrassed.
The guys who ran the place were customers of my dad's bar and gave him a deal on custom ice skates - to use at the rink on 48th Ave. So one day he took all four of us up there to get fitted. My sister was breaking in new saddle shoes and they hurt so she took them off halfway home and walked in her socks. When we got to Flying Goose she took off her shoes so they could trace her feet and she still had on the dirty socks from the walk home. My dad hit the roof. He would always mention that whenever we happened drive by 24th & Taraval, even after the store was long gone.