Plinky asks what was the worst time I've ever had at a place that was supposed to be fun.
Always, ALWAYS dress appropriately for the occasion. Always.
I actually covered my husband's unreasonable fear of roller coasters in my "Better Bring a Bucket List" post and as a result of said fear, my own fear of going Batmanless for my remaining days, so I'll refer you to that one for the real answer to this question. i do have a little ditty about how we ruined someone else's time however, and I have to admit it was the most fun I had at Great Adventure that day.
Thank god I was smart enuf to get Richard on the log flume ride early in the day before riding any of the "real" roller coasters. I LOVE log flume rides, some of my earliest childhood memories are of riding the log flume ride at the World's Fair in NY in the late '60s. You might say I grew up riding log flume rides.
So anyways, we're standing in this interminably long line, inching slowly toward the flume, and we observe this woman dozens of people ahead of us who obviously didn't read her "How to Dress for an Amusement Park" primer. Now, being the type who for years wouldn't answer the phone without her makeup on, I understand wanting to look at least presentable in public. Hubby and I mused however, that we just didn't get why anyone would come to Great Adventure dressed to the nines, red hair teased and sprayed to *there*, enuf makeup on to make Tammy Faye look "Cover Girl Clean" and sporting stilettos. This poor misguided woman became the source of our amusement for the long, boring wait to get on the ride. We were obviously desperate for something to do to pass the time.
Just as we are finally reaching the boarding ramp, the ticket taker starts pulling couples out of the line and having them stand aside while larger groups were directed to their logs. Eventually he points at us and points to a log. Just as I am about to get in, I hear this sarcastic voice coming from the back of the log, "Ha ha, you are going to get SO wet! The people in the front get SOAKED!" I looked up and realized it was the sprayed-to-within-an-inch-of-her-life redhead. I also realized she had never ridden a log flume ride before. I smiled.
As soon as hubby was safely tucked behind me, I whispered a little something in his ear. He smiled.
And away we went, sloshing and banging and slipping down small hills and making little splashes. I didn't even hear any unusual sounds emanating from hubby, so it is safe to assume that even he was enjoying himself.
Now unlike a roller coaster, which generally has the biggest drop in the beginning of the ride, the biggest drop on a log flume ride is at the end. I know this. I've done this before.
We reach the crest of the hill and find ourselves facing down. Just as the log goes over the top I yell, "NOW!"
I duck. Hubby ducks. The water goes SWOOSH! I am dry. Hubby is dry. Redhead is drenched. Life is good. And wet hairspray *so* sucks.
I love log flume rides.