I'm kind of a glutton for punishment. I'm not exactly the right shape for rollercoasters.
March 2005:
The river ride had two weird thick velcro straps as a seat belt. My two ends of velcro barely touched each other--like seventh graders slowdancing. I decided that if my life were supposed to end with me falling into a 4 foot deep man-made river then so be it, because those things were not going to secure me down in any way.
That was the same trip where I was having a hard time closing the harness over my...ample chest. And over walked the ride attendant, who grabbed the harness and slammed it against my upper body repeatedly with such force I thought he was trying to resuscitate me. He then took a step back and said, "It's not going to work." So I had to climb over the crotch pole and take the walk of shame off the ride. At least Elizabeth got off with me, that was nice of her.
July 2005:
Ok, so I'm at the Samurai with Sarah. We discuss that the Orange-dotted headrests denote a seat for chunkies. ("A larger seat for more space in front of you"-the sign...oh how I'm amused by political correctness.) As we walk around the ride we notice there are no 2 seats next to eachother. The ride attendant says to me, "I have one right here for you." and points to the nearest orange-dotted seat. Sarah ends up in the row ahead of me, the only other open seat. After I climb over the crotch pole (anyone else feel they need a running start to get over that thing?) and pull the big padded harness over me, the attendant comes by and checks to make sure everyone is secure. As he walks by me he tugs on my harness and says, all sympathetic-like, "Is that gonna be OK for you?" Ah, special attention. How I love that. (Gag) Yes sir, although the close proximity of the harness to my body has caused me to have cleavage up to my chin, I am fine. In fact, I still have quite a bit of space, care to join me?
No comments:
Post a Comment