Last weekend I suffered a rude awakening when I discovered I no longer enjoy roller coasters. Unfortunately, I did not make this discovery until I was hurtling face-first toward the earth in a death trap known as El Toro.
Jen had gotten us tickets to Six Flags Great Adventure for my birthday, because she knew how much I loved it there. It's been about ten years since my last visit, and a lot of new coasters have opened since then. I wanted to experience them all, but the 4-month-old wooden behemoth El Toro was at the top of my list. It holds the world record for the steepest wooden coaster drop at 76 degrees (that's it in the picture).
I should have taken it as a warning sign that Jen and I were the oldest people on line. Jen certainly did. The only reason she agreed to go on the ride in the first place was because she knew it would make me happy. She used to love coasters, too. But unlike me, she knew she was too old for them.
Waiting on long lines with an ADDer is like waiting on long lines with a toddler. They don't understand what's taking so long, and they're bored out of their minds, so they fidget and whine. The line only took an hour (which is not bad for a popular ride), but Jen's patience was tapped after the first five minutes. To make matters worse, the teenage girls behind us had no concept of personal space. They bumped into us (and not lightly) every time the line would move. Jen of course couldn't handle this, so I had to continually block them with my body and let Jen go ahead of me.
When we finally got on the ride and ascended the first hill, I started to have second thoughts. And as soon as we hit the first drop (the one in the picture), I knew I had made a big mistake. Jen says I actually shouted, "What am I doing?!!" I thought it was never going to end.
But end it did, and it was a traumatic experience for both of us. Plus I had the added trauma of admitting my age.
Our evening at Six Flags was cut short by this disaster -- I certainly wasn't going on any more roller coasters. Ever. But it was Fright Fest (the park's Halloween festivities) and I wanted to stick around for the zombie parade, haunted hay ride, etc. Until I realized the zombies were 18-year-old park employees in street clothes and dark eye makeup. Most of them didn't even try to stay in character.
Jen was equally unimpressed, and her patience had worn very thin. We sat down on a bench to have some ice cream. Jen leaned over and said to me, "Just don't make eye contact with any of them." We talked and had our ice cream. It was a nice moment, like a little date. And then I hear Jen say, "Told you." 
I turn my head and come face to face with the one faux zombie who actually looked like a reanimated corpse.
It was time to leave.
To exit the park, we had to walk through the main area, where the fountain is, and where many zombies and screaming adolescent girls had gathered. One zombie had a chainsaw. He started chasing a group of girls. One of the girls plowed, shrieking, directly into Jen. And she snapped.
We laughed about it afterwards, but we definitely learned our lesson. Theme parks are not for adults, especially adults with ADD.
Comments