I have loved roller coasters for as long as I can remember. My favorite memory is from when my family helped me move back to Canyon after my freshman year in college and we made a Six Flags pit stop. Andrew and I rode roller coasters all day long. I'll have to see if I can uncover where I stashed those photos. So naturally, when Steve and I decided to spend the 4th of July weekend in Dallas I suggested we go there.
Turns out that was the worst idea I had all weekend.
While we waited in line for the first roller coaster I had an epiphany that I don't really like to ride them anymore. But I did it, even though I was scared. The first one wasn't sooo bad, so we got in line for the New Texas Giant. Having two hours to ponder over the science of roller coasters, how to survive that massive drop, and convincing myself that I will not die, I got buckled into my seat. And promptly started crying. I had my eyes closed for the majority of the ride that I thought would never end.
Steve was super supportive of my trauma...the way he almost died laughing when he saw the picture from the ride. Lucky for me, he had accidentally shredded his bank card earlier in the day and I refused to buy it.
Even though we had fun, I have come to the conclusion that I hate amusement parks:
- I could die of a heat stroke, despite my avid hydration.
- Waiting in line for about 2 hours for a ride is redic.
- Roller coasters make me cry
- I hate rides where you get wet
On the plus side: I did get rock candy and dots!
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