We rode every roller coaster at King's Dominion, even though my brother was nervous. Somewhere along the line, I became the person who calls other people "wuss" for not going on roller coasters. Well, only Ben, but still. I was the most coaster-fiendish. I rode the freefall drop twice, too.
I love amusment parks. I love the freewheeling kitsch, the American indulgance, the strangely regimented thrill-seeking. Theme parks are a combination of all of our wilder passions, but within fluffy, deep-fried, brightly-colored, boundaries. And I love that. I think it's a fantastic idea. You can go and be scared, coaxed, elated, and sated, and you don't really mind that you have to stand in line all day to do it.
I also love that most of the people you see there are regular old Americans -- not too beautiful or too well dressed or too functional; not to sad or too poor or too angry. Middle-of-the-road families and couples and children. I don't mean to be patronizing by saying that. I enjoy seeing people having fun, and usually that's what they're doing at theme parks. It's astonishing that most of the dysfunction and snappishness you see when people are, say, out shopping, disappears when they are at a theme park. They're really enjoying themselves. It's wonderful.
And now I'm off to the beach! Last night at the restaurant was so awful thatI'm really desperately glad to be going away simply for the reason that I WON'T BE THERE. I made a whole $41.
The catalogue of awful: There were 11 waitresses on; everything was slow because of the heat; 2 tables stiffed me; 1 table left me $1.02 despite the fact that they were really happy the whole time; my biggest table all shared a very small number of dishes; I ran into the busboy, spilling a tray of drinks all over myself and in his bus pan; the ice bin fell on my head; the kitchen staff kept making fun of me, and not in a nice way; the cook revealed once again that he does not know my name, but fondly teased and called the brand newa waitresses by name (this is because I am too old and ugly. why this hurts my feelings: I like the cook and think he's funny and cute); and all this on top of having to come barrelling straight from my other job and so getting no break.
So. I am glad to be going on vacataion.
I love amusment parks. I love the freewheeling kitsch, the American indulgance, the strangely regimented thrill-seeking. Theme parks are a combination of all of our wilder passions, but within fluffy, deep-fried, brightly-colored, boundaries. And I love that. I think it's a fantastic idea. You can go and be scared, coaxed, elated, and sated, and you don't really mind that you have to stand in line all day to do it.
I also love that most of the people you see there are regular old Americans -- not too beautiful or too well dressed or too functional; not to sad or too poor or too angry. Middle-of-the-road families and couples and children. I don't mean to be patronizing by saying that. I enjoy seeing people having fun, and usually that's what they're doing at theme parks. It's astonishing that most of the dysfunction and snappishness you see when people are, say, out shopping, disappears when they are at a theme park. They're really enjoying themselves. It's wonderful.
And now I'm off to the beach! Last night at the restaurant was so awful thatI'm really desperately glad to be going away simply for the reason that I WON'T BE THERE. I made a whole $41.
The catalogue of awful: There were 11 waitresses on; everything was slow because of the heat; 2 tables stiffed me; 1 table left me $1.02 despite the fact that they were really happy the whole time; my biggest table all shared a very small number of dishes; I ran into the busboy, spilling a tray of drinks all over myself and in his bus pan; the ice bin fell on my head; the kitchen staff kept making fun of me, and not in a nice way; the cook revealed once again that he does not know my name, but fondly teased and called the brand newa waitresses by name (this is because I am too old and ugly. why this hurts my feelings: I like the cook and think he's funny and cute); and all this on top of having to come barrelling straight from my other job and so getting no break.
So. I am glad to be going on vacataion.
Labels: anxiety, spirit of the age, trips
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