The thrill of the ride!!! Weeeeeeeeeee!!!! I’m talking roller coasters. Who doesn’t love a curl your toes, make you scream at the top of your lungs, hold your breath, scream some more, white knuckle death grip, full body rush, roller coastergasm?
Me. Absolutely scares me to D-E-A-T-H. Thinking about it gives me a panic attack. Hurling through space makes me want to hurl. And I have no intention of confusing G-Spot with G-Force.
So what is it that drives some people to find incredible, nauseating thrills by shooting straight up into the air 1,000 million feet and then plummeting back toward the earth at 5,000 million miles per hour (you people are crazy!!!) and then some of us (aka me) would rather put on scaredy pants, sit on a bench and hold everyone’s valuables? Death by roller coaster is not my ending.
When I was almost 10, the Six-Flags Screamin’ Eagle in St. Louis was built (which is now considered a “bike ride” compared to the roller coasters of today). Soon it was all the rage among my thrill-seeking pre-teen and teenage friends to “Fly The Screamin’ Eagle.” They would stand in line FOREVER “to fly” and then do it over and over and over again and again and again. Year after year, time after time, this was my play-by-play:
Stand in line until the very end at which point my friends would squeal and race at breakneck speed to then wedge themselves into strait jacket claustrophobic compartments and then <insert drumroll> I would turn around and walk the roller coaster hall of shame. Big “L” stamped on my forehead. Not gonna happen.
Say to my friends, “This time is it. For real. I’m riding it for sure for sure!!!” Stand in line for 2 hours, proceed to get into the strait jacket compartment and then completely panic and scream at the top of my lungs, “GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!” They would rescue the flailing, hyperventilating girl and then, with my head down, making no eye contact – I would again walk the roller coaster hall of shame – ready to hurl.
Sit on the bench as “Loser Bench Girl” holding the “cool roller coaster peoples” valuables.
So back to the question, what drives the thrill for some and not for others? I have no idea. But I do know that I’m fine with being Bench Girl, thank you very much. And my scaredy pants are always ready when I’m at Disneyland (on airplanes and riding up the St. Louis Arch).
After all, what would the cool roller coaster people do without the loser bench people to hold their stuff?
Zenitude for today:
Find exceptional, curl your toes thrills in life – even if they don’t include super scary roller coasters.