For the last outing I can claim as part of summer, Jessica and I joined a friend of hers from work on a Living Social adventure to Six Flags in New Jersey this weekend. The trick was going the weekend after Labor Day with kids all back to school and families done vacationing. We practically had the park to ourselves, barely waited in lines, and had transportation covered with a bus ride included in the deal.
We didn’t waste any time hitting all the roller coasters with a bee-line for Superman the moment the park opened. Once over the crotch obstruction with the giant harness down, it hit us that we hadn’t ridden theme park rides in a while. We were simultaneously giggling like children, bashful of our mutual fear and excitement. This coaster was scarier than any of us wanted to admit, but the rides only got better from there.
The Green Lantern was far more intimidating, but surprisingly thrilling to ride standing up. We hesitated to repeat under a time crunch and headed for the next stop. After a long line and mechanical delays at El Toro, we gave up and sauntered to Bizarro, disappointed to miss out on one. The slump didn’t last long when we got right on without a wait and were thrust through the perfect combination of loops and drops. We laughed hysterically at how much fun this two-minute ride was and unanimously agreed to walk right back in line for a repeat. A kid hopped on our row for a repeat of his own and demanded we raise our hands the whole second round. When we slammed to a stop at the end and saw the ride still had no line, we made the rash decision to go a third, final time, young guy included.
When I nearly blacked out on the first loop and felt my stomach churn as my feet returned to the ground, The Sandlot instinctively replayed in my mind. We girls in our 20s had nearly made ourselves sick, hooked on the excitement of a ride. It took some time to walk it off and let our stomachs settle, and we still scarfed down some Mexican before our final coaster, Batman.
By the 3 pm curfew Living Social had imposed, we were exhausted…quite like old people. Six rides proved more than my fill of action for a day and I barely functioned the rest of the evening. The trip was just so worth getting away for a day, acting like kids while we could, and making the most of a Saturday morning. We old geezers spend too many weekends recovering from the week, and I refuse to let work take the place of life. Flying around screaming and laughing feels a lot more like living.
I mean, when do you get to make faces like this at your desk?