So, I'm sure that many of us remember the days, back when we were children, when the county fair would come to town and all the rides would be there, looking oh so formidable, yet so wanting to ride them. Well, I was a sucker for the spinning rides. My equalibrium has been so tormented by random spinning that I actually begin to function better after a good spinning session.
Okay, back to the point of the story...
I wanted to take my daughters to the fair. As anyone who knows me will realize, I do a lot of things without thinking first. So, I decided that it would be fun for them to invite a friend of mine's two daughters. An idea oh so good in theory, but you will see how it turns out!
So, off we go, me and two six year olds, a four year old and a three year old. What was I thinking? The sad part is, I don't even drink so I can't blame it on that. Anyway, we get to the rides. I have one little daredevil that wants to go on rides that have grown men vomiting and crying as they are getting off. She made it to the front of the line but the attendant said that she was too small to go alone, she had to have an adult with her. NO NO NO. "Sorry honey, we'll just find another ride you can go on okay", that was all I could get out. There wasn't a snowballs chance you know where that I was going to find myself on that ride that day or any other. I'm not afraid to admit that I am a giant chickenshit. So, on we walked until this tricky little ride called "The Sizzler". Now, to this point, any connection I have had to anything called the sizzler results in me being full and happy. Sizzlers are good things, or at least I believed they were. This was no ordinary ride. It was kind of like a rectangular basket with a giant bar that went across your stomach to hold you in. It looked safe (enough). So I put the two older girls together in the basket across from me and took the two smaller girls in with me. (Big BIG Mistake!) So, the young man/boy, (unkempt, unshaven, and unaware), came over to each of the baskets to be sure that everyone was all locked in and that everything was safe and ready for take off. My legs are very long. Especially from my hips to my knees. I ended up sitting half sideways to get the room I needed for my legs and still have the door able to shut. I had the smallest girl, Cameron, to my right and my youngest daughter Olivia to the left. As the man/boy came around to our basket he told us to keep our hands in at all times and grabbed the door to slam it shut. Now keep in mind, during all this there is a line of people about 3 car lengths away waiting for their turn, not to mention all of the other people, smarter than I was, that were in the spectator section. So, as he slams the door, it hits my stomach and bounces back open. He shot a look that screamed embarrassment and said, "I don't think I can shut the door with you in there". I looked at him and said to try it again. This time he wound up his arm like a world series pitcher and gave it a big heave ho... to no avail. This time before it bounced off my gut it pinched my skin. Now I was pissed! I looked at him with my best impersonation of "the look" I used to get from my mother and grumbled under my breath, "I don't care what you have to do, shut the damn door NOW, don't make me get out in front of all those people." We stared into eachothers eyes for what felt like an eternity and then he grabbed the door and with all his might slammed it shut. Oh the pain. It was such a shock that I immediately sucked in all my air. The issue now was there was no room for me to exhale and expand my lungs, fat, I was in there so tight, a fart at the wrong moment would've blown me right out the top. So, I was barely breathing, being held up by this tight steel death door, waiting to get spun to oblivion. Well, as the ride started, we had another problem. The force of the spin was so great that it began to slide me towards the tiniest little girl in the ride with me. My daughter would slam into me and then I would slide towards Cameron. She just looked up at me with these scared little eyes, begging for me to let her live, and screamed NNNOOOOO WOODY. Well, it took all my strength to hold myself back from the force of gravity trying to force me to crush this little baby girl. I was begging the man/boy to end this terrible ride and end my torture but I was still unable to breath so it was just a look I was offering up. Well, as the ride began to slow I began to realize that this nightmare was almost over! As the Sizzler came to an end, my humiliation was just beginning. The ride was created so that once the spinning baskets came to a stop, the doors would unlock and the rider would gently push the door open to exit. To get in, the baskets were positioned over these wood crates large enough so that people could step up on them to get in. Well, for some reason my door wouldn't open. I asked the man/boy to push the button again for me. Suddenly a loud BANG and my door shot open with the force of a shotgun blast. The pressure applied by my non-breathing belly was just too much and darn near blew the door off. Unfortunately this BANG was heard by all, maybe even into the next county. I could feel my face and ears turning red but, I was going to do my best to get off this ride with at least some fragment of my dignity. Well, that was stripped from me as well. As I lifted my one leg out of the basket to step out onto the wood crate under me, I suddenly realized that my basket stopped a little short of the crate. Almost as if in slow motion, I tumbled out onto my face in front of every man, woman, and child in the vicinity. My kids of course were laughing. I tried to get up and laugh but for some reason I just couldn't. I just grabbed the girls and ran over to the tilt-a-whirl. It was the only ride that would offer some sort of shelter from the sea of glaring stares aimed at me and my sizzler-breaking butt. Well, the day went on and as people came and went the story was less and less interesting. But for those that had seen me in action, they have their own little private memory of my public humiliation. Maybe this year I will be strong enough to go back to the fair. No, maybe not. Oh well, I am going to go back one day, but not until I have lost enough weight that breathing wont be a problem!
