Why is Mike Holding Me and Where Did He Get That Hat?
(continued)
WHAT? I cry to him.
He says a huge lightning storm is on its way, I
think from Paulding
County, and would shut down the park for at least an hour (the storm
was supposed to last an hour, an hour fifteen -- but that didn't mean
the park would start back right away). He takes Mike just outside
our
doorway and points behind the building to the sky. Within
minutes, the
shop is filling up with people who are complaining that the rides had
all ready shut down (lightning reports beat actual rain at amusement
parks with tall metal rides), and I want to cry. Mike just laughs
it
off, and assures me it's okay.
All in all, it was a great break. It forces me
to relax at least
an hour and finish my peanuts and water. Once the rain begins to
fade,
Mike points out the doorway to the view of the droves of people walking
to the parking lot, and says we should get a break in the heat AND the
crowds -- this could be a good thing. And, he says, I look much
MUCH
better.
So eventually we head back into the park, and seek
out Superman,
which we eventually find. I'm nearly devastated by the line
outside
the ride slinking toward the arcade (no more huge lines! I'm like Tippi
Hedren in The Birds at the
end, when just looking at a couple of
finches makes her want to turn and run). But then we see that the
gate
to the ride itself is closed, and that slinking group of people is the
ENTIRE line -- oh, we're so in. Yea! So we stand in that
line,
watching the empty Superman ride and willing them to begin running it
(the Cyclone had started up, we noticed at one of our many wrong turns
to get here, and the Ninja and Scream Machine, we can see from where
we're standing, is beginning to run cars with people).
Then we hear the glorious truck horn blast thingy,
announcing the
cars are about to start their preliminary empty runs, and the crowd
cheers. They open the gates, we stand in line a bit (the clouds
remain, so the harsh sunshine is happily doused)(and Mike's remembering
things he'd forgotten from earlier in the day -- like around my eyes
went all brown and sallow or something when I was out, and I tell him I
notice I'm getting uglier in this story as the day wears on), and I
suddenly announce to Mike that we should queue for the front row --
it's really the only way to ride this. He's so all over it, and
it's
not long before we're all cushioned and strapped in, and on our
way.
It's perfect (you don't believe a man can fly -- you believe YOU can
fly -- it's like Superman's pulling you by the shoulders for a ride, or
you've got the Rocketeer rocketpack strapped on) and when we step off,
Mike declares it's the ultimate chiropractic trip -- he feels like
blood's been shaken out of areas it's never been shaken out of before,
and he wants to ride again -- pity that line.
We decide one more ride -- the Cyclone on the way
out -- and dinner
at Houlihan's, but first, a stop at the giftshop to buy the picture of
us riding the Superman ride, which is swell.
Gloriously, the Cyclone hardly has anyone in line,
and if we hadn't
queued up for the front row, we would have been out in five minutes --
but we have to ride in front. And Mike is a scream. At the
beginning
of the ride, he's commenting on the structure, and how cool it looks
with us riding under the wooden platforms, and as we're just going over
the top of the first big hill, he notes how scary it is that the people
behind us are slowing us down because we have to hang here and wait for
them to top the hill -- "I mean," he declares pointing straight ahead,
which is down at this point, "that's straight f&*%ing DOWN!"
And
down we go, and Mike says "Whoaaa..." "Ugggghhh" "This is relentless!"
and I can't stop laughing. At the end of the ride, he's staring
straight ahead, mouth kinda open, hair a bit on end, and says that was
great -- but it completely undid the chiropractic feeling of the
Superman ride. Next time, he's doing that in reverse.
So we stumble out of the park, after I smashed a
penny (Tweety
Bird, since I was sort of feeling like that all day), and head back to
the car. After dinner, we get back to the house, where Mom says
she's
looking forward to Mark's version of the story, which I think she means
as Mark's comments -- and Mike drives away and I promptly go to
sleeeeeep.
The end.
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