"It should be the best one," Friend decided while I stared up at the metal structure in utter distaste. I wrinkled my nose as screaming passengers sped by us, having come down from 20 stories or so at a 65 degree angle.
"Do Not Want," I said clearly, shaking my head to prevent any sort of confusion.
"It doesn't even go upside down!" she insisted. "It'll be fun. You'll see."
"No," I refused firmly. "Too high, too fast, too evil. Do Not Want."
I did not mind the indoor, twisty roller coaster, saying offering a mild "goodness!" when the sharp turns shoved me against the side of the car. I giggled through the roller coaster where the car spun around - I do like spinning! I felt a little woozy after the old, wooden ride.
"That was my first time," I confirmed after we climbed out of the car after our third ride of the day. I've had nightmares about falling that fast, but I'd never willingly gone that far into the air and then sped toward the ground. It made my head feel funny and I think I squeaked more than screamed, but I survived and almost enjoyed the shaky feeling that followed the experience.
"I'll do that one," I said, pointing to the prettiest of the wooden rides. I brushed off Friend's protests that this would be more wicked (I don't even know what that means - something about hurting my head less) but as people screamed above us, going 70mph, I continued to shake my head firmly. I enjoyed the aftereffects of the turns and drops of the pretty ride and my muddled brain somehow agreed to stand in line with Friend for the Scary One.
"If I do this," I said, irritated that I was giving in, "can we leave?" She nodded in response so I followed her to step inside the train, pulling the restraint as tight as possible and resolving to endure this "fun." I eschewed the 'hands in the air, feet dangling wildly' posture in favor of gripping the lap bar until my hands were aching and tucking my feet under my seat. I squinted my eyes and yipped with alarm a couple of times. I heard Friend laugh when I cursed midway through and glanced over to scold her. I was distracted by how happy she looked, going up and down and around sharply banked turns on a smooth, metal track. Pleased she was enjoying herself, I still sighed with happy relief when we found a flat piece of track and moved slowly toward the station.
I blinked back tears when I dropped Friend off at the airport. I yawned copiously while driving home. I winced while walking in from the garage, feet aching from standing in line most of the day. I still don't get it - why it's fun to be frightened, how the woozy effects are oddly pleasant. But I can ride the freaking things, even if only under duress.