You've Never Looked Wetter

On Thursday, Lindsay and I trekked to Six Flags. We lined up for our first ride, and although it was all of a five minute wait, I already had more than I could handle of this too-cool-for-school dad listening to an I-Pod standing next to us. He spotted a kid wearing a Metallica shirt nearby and chatted him up. "Have you ever seen them in concert? Oh, you've GOT to do it, man!" I really wish there was more than two feet of space between him and me, as I did not wish to catch his obnoxiousness. Being a braggart to a twelve-year-old is so becoming. Even more becoming is that he held up the ride to get in a fight with the attendant who told him that, for his safety, he must remove his earphones. Safety-shmafety! Metallica doesn't follow the rules, man!

He was only the start. Forget the rides, people-watching is the real source of amusement at the park. In particular, people's t-shirts fascinated me. A fine pot-bellied gentleman wore a stained t-shirt advertising "Friend with Benefits." I literally had to restrain Lindsay to prevent her from asking for his number. Even better was a woman wearing an "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" t-shirt. If I were to generalize, I'd say she was of the appropriate demographic to have her trailer ravaged by a tornado, so I liked to imagine she was sent on a Six Flags vacation while her home was being renovated for television. Then again, it might be equally funny to imagine she loves the show so much that she went out and bought a shirt to commemorate it. I was so busy admiring her attire that I completely ignored her husband (though it could have been her brother, I'd hate to assume) who was wearing a superior shirt, which read: "Let Freedom Ride!" complete with an illustration of the Statue of Liberty riding a motorcycle. Given that the Statue of Liberty is a symbol of immigration, I would read the shirt as a message of pro-immigration, even though I'm almost positive that wasn't what he was trying to convey. I can't even begin to count the number of vaguely offensive yet patriotic shirts we witnessed that day, but one more does stand out. A man, a line-cutter no less, jumped in front of us. The back of his shirt had a cartoon of a ferocious dog flexing his biceps (which had a patriotic tattoo on it) and it was hauntingly captioned "FREEDOM ISN'T FREE." So I guess that means that to maintain our freedom, we need to beat others up... and train attack dogs. Freedom isn't free -- that's so real!

By the way, "That's so real" is the new catchphrase I picked up from Lindsay. It's best used to respond to something ridiculous or unbelievable, or as Lindsay suggests "as often as possible." For example, "That guy refuses to take off his headphones during the ride." "That's so real!" Reality is subjective, you know?

It wasn't all rides and patriotic clothing, however. Early in the day, Lindsay became sick from the rides, which she claims is a first in a storied history of park-going. Though this turn of events put a slight damper on our subsequent activities, Lindsay proved to be a trooper, insisting on "staying the course." (So patriotic. So real.) So we kept doing the rides, which might make me an ass for not insisting on just going home if we weren't feeling well, but as I saw it, if she were to vomit, I'd be close enough to her to get it on me, too, which would be an appropriate punishment.

The problem with Six Flags is that there is no pretense of entertainment. Though Disney has comparable waits for rides, Disney at least attempts to provide diversions during the wait time. Disney offers videos, statues, animatronics, music, and placards to keep visitors preoccupied, while at Six Flags, you're lucky if the buildings even have a decent paint job. There's no magic to the environment, just roller coasters that afford stunning views of the neighboring roller coasters. Occasionally, there are advertisements to break the monotony. My favorite was a Lunchables ad placed after a log flume ride that didn't even make us damp. The advertisement said, "You've never looked wetter!" The statement was neither true nor appropriate. Nevertheless, it was so real.

While her nausea persisted, Lindsay invented a deathbed metaphor to keep her focused. It didn't matter that she was ill, there were certain rides that she had heard so much about in the past that "even if she were on her deathbed," she would go on them. I worried that maybe it wasn't a metaphor but her actual state of mind, but who was I to deny someone her dying wish? I mean, that's so real.

Consequently, we did all the big and scary ones. If I'm being honest, many of these roller coasters don't captivate me like they used to. It used to give me a thrill as it challenged my fear of heights, but when done in succession, I start to lose the anxiety that makes it fun. The last roller coaster we went on was billed as the scariest, but I somehow doubted it. Signs along the way taunted us, "Are you man enough?!" Lindsay assured me that her dick could handle it, though I was more concerned with her stomach. I figured it was all hype, but it was probably the most frightening ride I've ever been on. I had one of my freak outs as we ascended to the top where I thought, "I'd do anything to get off this ride right now," but it's always at a point where it'd be much safer to just stay on the ride and finish it out that attempt to climb to the ground. When panicking, however, my mind plays tricks on me. It was just the ride I needed to get excited again, and it proved that I am, in fact, man enough. I have three testicles now, actually.

At the end of the trip, I was able to return Lindsay home with no harm done. Well, almost. We had gone on this one water ride where we avoided getting wet the entire way until the last dip, where upon we got completely drenched. I had gone on expecting to get wet, but once I was nearly at the end with nothing more than a couple of drops of water having splashed on my shirt, I realized that I was content to stay dry after all, and that's when the water hit us. Then, in fact, I had "never looked wetter." Lindsay commented, "I hope this water isn't chlorinated, it makes my skin break out." She could have spoken up sooner, I felt like I had been torturing the girl all day.

The water? Chlorinated. Hours later, Lindsay had broken out in hives.

That's so real.