I endured these indignities, envying the nonchalant nature of my adrenaline junkie travel companions while secretly plotting an escape to the Tiki Room. Alas, I made it to the front of the line, chest puffed in exaggerated bravado…just to be escorted to the emergency exit by coaster attendants who witnessed my hyperventilation and struggle to withhold from anxiety-puking all over the cars. I waited outside the building for my friends, my resolve to avoid roller coasters (...and also oral surgeons, celery, and that Kingman, AZ gas station bathroom on the way to Vegas...) stronger than ever.
Fast forward over ten years later to this morning, and I’m in my car waiting over 40 minutes to travel only 8 miles. I am reminded of that Disney trip, hoping and praying that unlike the panic-induced trauma of that day there is at least something interesting at the end of this wait.
But no. Traffic was backed-up and I was late because people were checking out road workers busy looking busy. Seriously?! No fender-bender, no high-speed police chase, no freakin’ rock n roller coaster…just men trying to pull off the orange and yellow-striped look?
The letdown was worse for me than not being able to muster the strength to get on the coaster.
It’s not that I want for there to be ambulances or body bags or anything morbid like that…but if I’m going to be sitting in my car for 40 minutes I want it to be worth something. That’s all I’m sayin’. Is that so wrong? Or could I at least get a chipper Disney intern to escort me personally off the parkway through a secret passageway to funnel cake, fresh-squeezed lemonade, and corn dogs?
8/12/2010 UPDATE: This morning's 15 minute backup was rewarded with a brake-worthy car-b-q in the southbound lanes. No one was hurt. The car was trashed. Someone "up there" is really listenin!
Ahhh the memories of that Rockin' Rollercoaster event! Kind of all of a sudden you we just gone! Life lessons come in all kinds of packages, like very large guitars.
ReplyDelete