Last night my pal Becca and I blew off our closed memo assignment (due Monday at 8:50 a.m.!) to zip up to Kings Island with a couple of other school friends for Pride Night. Some gay group in Cincinnasty rents the park for the night and use it as a fundraiser every year. I don't know the details and frankly, I don't care. I just know there is virtually no line for ANYTHING that night...rollercoasters, funnel cake and beer make for a happy Christopher! Now, I know I said I wasn't posting until after the memo is done unless something unbelievably funny happened. I would call us breaking The Beast pretty damn funny.
That's right, we broke the world's longest wooden roller coaster, or rather, Becca did.
It had been years since I had been on a rollercoaster, and since The Beast is widely considered the best wooden rollercoaster in the country, we wanted to hop that one first, so we grabbed cocktails nearby, chugged them, and hopped aboard the front car (again, no waiting! the wait is normally an hour!) with Becca, Luke, and my pals Jay, Jim, and Mike who we ran into near the beer stand. I panicked a wee bit when the ride started, and when the coaster reached the top of the first hill (picture from this guy) to drop us into the foliage in the dark night, I was screaming like a white woman. I'm told it was something like, "Sweet Jeebus, please let me off! I'll never touch another penis again, I promise!" Jay will have to confirm that for us.
Needless to say, the ride was a fantastic trip of terror! Becca got a bit more terror than the rest of us, though, because as the ride was coming to a finish, she felt a tightening around her neck. The scarf she was wearing had unraveled a bit, and had gotten stuck under the car! She was able to keep from choking pretty easily, but we couldn't get the scarf loose. The college kids running the ride had the brilliant idea that as the ride started back up, the next rider should be able to pull it out easily.
Of course she was not able to do so. As the cars traveled past us, I had a sinking feeling with the headline "Pride Night Disaster! Dykes Derailed by Straight Girl" stuck in my head. They got a very short way up the hill on the left (picture from this guy) when the ride was shut down. At this point, the queens waiting to ride the next cars were glaring at us, and I'm thinking, "These bitches are gonna come after us and beat us down!" I pull Becca away, begging her to forget her scarf and make a quick escape, but they all had some ridiculous sense of responsibility or some such nonsense.
After bringing in two golf carts of security folks and the park's entire maintenance staff, the poor dyke we stuck with the scarf was able to pull the scarf free without any of their help. They did get the coaster started again a bit later, but I'm still just floored that our goofy butts managed to break it in the first place. Becca refused to go back to the Beast later that night for fear the folks running it would throw us out. As we skipped through the park from ride to beer to ride, I know I saw some pointing and judgment in our general direction, like they were saying, "Those are the jackasses who broke the Beast...run to get in front of them so we can ride the next ride before they eff it up too!"
Oh, by the way, Becca got her scarf back. It is a knitted scarf from her mother that says, "You can't steal my joy." Evidently you can't, but you sure can mangle it and get it awfully greasy.