I’m a screamer. Yes, I scream and I’m proud. Now, it’s not what
you think. I may be a screamer
– but we’re talking an amusement park screamer.
I’m a screamer. Yes, I scream and I’m proud. Now, it’s not what you think. I may be a screamer – but we’re talking an amusement park screamer.
I can’t help it. The minute I get on a ride, I scream. I even screamed once on “It’s a Small World.” Those little Scottish bagpipers came out of nowhere. I was so mesmerized by that stupid song, I didn’t see my boat heading right for them until it was too late.
Of course, it’s well known throughout my family that I’m a screamer. In fact, one of my cousins once said I was the only person she’d ever known who could scream and breathe at the same time. I try to be modest, but frankly it’s a gift.
One day, on a coaster called “The Ninja,” I screamed from the minute the bar thingy came down over my head until the second they took me off the ride. The guy working the ride asked if I needed an ambulance. I don’t know if he thought I was crazy or maybe just … well, crazy.
And I screamed the same day on the Snoopy ride – who knew they would put a thrill ride in the kids’ section? And I screamed when I was waiting on line for the restroom and one of the toilets overflowed. For Pete’s sake, I was wearing flip-flops. Even a devoted non-screamer would let one rip when that happened.
And that’s why it wasn’t a big shock to me when we went to Disneyland for a family reunion and nobody would ride next to me. They mumbled about blown eardrums and pain. But you know, we people with great gifts are often ostracized, so I didn’t let it bother me. Also, I forced Harry into sitting with me. Look, every marriage has some sacrifice. Ours just has more than most.
Our first ride was “Indiana Jones.” I’ve been on this ride a million times. I know the snake is going to pop out at me. So I say my mantra over and over, “don’t scream at the snake; don’t scream at the snake.” And of course the snake jolts forward and I scream like Jaime Lee Curtis in the original “Halloween” and then I grab Harry’s favorite shirt and rip the sleeve off.
Later, at Disney’s California Adventure, we went on the “Tower of Terror.” It is probably true that a person with a known screaming issue should never go on a ride with the word “terror” in the title. Actually, it’s definitely true. I started screaming the minute the ride operator shut the elevator doors and didn’t stop until I was in the little store at the end of the ride, safe and sound and hoarse. Our picture from that ride shows me ripping the skin off Harry’s sleeveless arm while screaming directly into his ear.
And then, we went on Space Mountain. Now, we are having a wonderful time, flying through space. I’m screaming – naturally. And then, mid scream, something flies into my mouth. I’m not kidding. Something definitely flew into my mouth as I screamed my head off.
Well, of course, I snapped my jaws shut. And then I realized that whatever was in there wasn’t supposed to be in there and if I didn’t open my darned mouth I might swallow whatever it was. So I opened up and started spitting. Now, I’m not an experienced spitter. I haven’t spit much in my lifetime, thanks to my mom and her silly etiquette rules. But I spit like there was no tomorrow.
And as I was hurtling through space, wind blowing and spit flying, I suddenly realized that my face was covered in spit. My own, thank goodness, but spit nonetheless. So I closed my mouth again. But I needed to scream. After all, the ride wasn’t finished and I was scared and dripping. But I was determined not to open my mouth again.
So I screamed with my mouth closed.
Needless to say, screaming with your mouth closed isn’t as easy as you’d think. After the ride was over, I looked at my picture and I looked like a very red blowfish. And yes, that is just as unattractive as it sounds. Of course, my darling child took one look at my photo and asked me if I was going to explode.
But you know what? I still screamed on the next ride – you know, the scare factor on the carousel is extremely underrated, but terrifying nonetheless.
