T
TRGLDTE
Guest
One time my father took me and my two brothers to Coney Island after we went to visit his sister (my aunt) in Brooklyn. I don't remember why my mom wasn't there, but I feel like she was sick. Anyway, we saw this ride and I wanted to go on it, I thought it was a Haunted House. And I told my Dad, it's a haunted house ride. He had no idea so we got on, and we had my younger brother with me, who was really very young the poor thing. Me and my older brother were in our early teens at least.
It wasn't a haunted house at all, it was just painted with spooky images on the outside. It was one of those gravity spinners. My fucking father went nuts, he was trying to hold onto my little brother while yelling out "Darla I'm going to kill you" and my older brother was laughing hysterically. I'm stopping during writing this because I'm laughing that hard just remembering it.
Well when it finally stopped I was scared, but my father was so relieved that it was over that he just said, I need to go get a drink, and he wasn't even mad at me. He was shaking like a leaf and white as a ghost the rest of the day. I'll never forget it.
Oh Lord, those type of ride do the same to me. The generic nickname I have for them is "Whirl and Hurl." I'll do any kind of coaster, no problem. I've been mountain climbing in the Tetons, 1000' up on a rock face, heights don't scare me, but Whirl and Hurls do!
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