What a lovely purple and yellow roller coaster! I truly think…one second…oh gosh…be right back…
Okay, I’m done VOMITING.
Anyway, let me get back to how I feel about roller coasters. I absolutely L-O-V-E [not getting within 100 feet of] them! The thrill have losing your breath, feeling the corn dog roll over in your stomach, almost losing your glasses…it doesn’t get better than that. No way. [Except the nice, gentle carousel. It’s much, much better than that].
I was a young child the first time I rode a roller coaster. I was with my whole family, it was a joyous DePew family outing. I was sitting behind my dad when we started moving…faster and faster. I was terrified. I pressed my face against his shoulder, really, really hard. And I got a massive, spurting bloody nose. Gross. I can’t quite remember how that worked out, but thinking back, I’m sure there must have been blood flying.
The next time I rode a roller coaster, I was much older…maybe a Freshman in High School. One of my friends convinced me it was time to try again, so I got all strapped in and ready to go. We started moving…up and up. Then, suddenly, we flew down a huge hill. I took a deep breath…and held it. For minutes. Hours. Days. I couldn’t breathe! My friend looked over, and saw my pale, unbreathing body. He began to coach me through the rest of the ride. “Molly, breathe in. Now breathe out.” He saved my life.
And that, my friends, was the last time I rode a roller coaster.
I am sure these stories left you wondering how I really feel about roller coasters. Well…I suppose I feel like this girl…