When I was a junior in high school I finally had a date to the fair. Finally. It was our first date and I was thrilled.
We could hold hands! And eat junk food! And hang out with our friends!
What I wasn’t counting on was that he’d want to ride rides.
When I was a junior in high school, I got way wrapped up in dreamland and wasn’t too clear on reality. Of course a boy would want to ride the rides at the fair. That’s what you’re supposed to do.
But. I didn’t ride rides.
Cause I was a wuss.
But the first thing he asked when I arrived was what ride I wanted to ride.
“I don’t know. What do you want to ride?”
And he pointed at one of those metal contraptions that look like torture devices where they strap you in a cage and it spins around and upside down over and over.
Oh. My. God.
Oh, did I mention I was still kinda shy then? Well, shy enough around boys on a first date not to speak up and say “Hell. No!”
Did I not mention that?
So we stood in a long line for this thing.
(There are a bunch of crazies in the world.)
The whole time thinking I was going to pass out.
Like waiting in line for execution.
So we finally got on it. I was strapped in. He was strapped in on the other side of the cage.
This ride was so unromantic. So not what I was thinking. So no way there would be hand holding. No way I could snuggle my face into his chest.
My dad would love it.
He probably invented it.
So the ride started and I held on for dear life with both my arms and my legs.
I didn’t want to move an inch. Moving to me meant sure death.
Since you are reading this, you can assume I survived. And it was fine. And I was happy as heck to be off that thing.
I was secretly insanely elated that I had just ridden my first ride, but didn’t want to tell him. Thus the “secretly.”
The next day I remember I was in severe pain. The kind of pain you remember 16 years later.
(It really hurts your muscles holding on for dear life like that!)
I’m going to the fair again today. This time I have two dates! There will be hand holding! And junk food! And I will hang out with friends!
And I don’t plan on being sore afterward.
Notice I said “plan.”
Who knows what Tom and Kev will talk me into.