Chooch and I went to Kennywood on Tuesday, which I will recap with way too many words sometime soon, OH DON’T YOU WORRY ABOUT THAT, but until then, here’s the latest dumb on-ride souvenir picture that I deemed a must-purchase because memories, etc etc.
So, it was our third or fourth ride on Phantom’s Revenge that day. We were in the backseat as usual – I can’t remember the last time I sat anywhere other than the back or very first row on this daddy, now that I think about it…this is the EPITOME of back-row coaster for us, but we also like night rides in the front. There, now you know. Everything seemed regular until we began our ascent up the lift hill and the lady in front of me did one quick flick and shake of her hair, and suddenly the majority of her mane had encroached on my personal space. Her Disney Damsel locks were so incredibly long that they were straight up grazing my thighs.
I had no idea what to do. Gather her hair into a bushel and dump it back into her own seat?? I made a THE FUCK?? motion with my hands to Chooch, who started cracking up while watching the ends of her hair lap against my legs. I took off the hair elastic from my wrist and pantomimed wrapping it around her hair, which made Chooch crack up even harder. I kept trying to scooch back in my seat but there was no escaping this modern day Crystal Gale.
But then suddenly we had crested the top of the lift hill without me even realizing it, and as the train dropped, her hair came up like a sheet, crashing against my face. I kept my mouth clamped shut for fear of inhaling any tendrils which were now flying around my face willy-nilly like hair noodles. Out of instinct, I put my arms up in the air, as one does on rollercoasters, but my fingers became ensnared in her follicular garden and the thought of Stranger Strands coiling around my hands made me want to fucking die. Hair is so….INTIMATE. I did not want to have any sort of RELATIONS with this broad, especially behind her back.
The frizz flagellation was relentless. The way this ginger sheath was whipping and slapping against my face, I felt like Cinderella being bitch-slapped by a mop, like a car going through a car wash, like a wall being pelted by cooked pasta.
And Chooch never stopped laughing at my…wigging out.
Eventually, I had to cover my face with my hands to protect myself from any additional lock lashings.
And my plight was captured on film for posterity.
Of course, I had to buy it at that point because even though the idea of having that much extended contact with some broad’s hair is utterly disgusting to me and is actually making me dry-heave days later as I relive it through this writing, my pain was so hilarious to Chooch that it became funny to me too.
One confused look from the Kennywood photo cashier and $15 later, here we are.
I sent it to my brother Corey who scream-texted, “WHAT IF SHE HAS LICE” which added new layers to my horror. But then he said that it was almost as good as THE best Kennywood on-ride picture ever of Janna and the deodorant model. I still think my favorite is THE INFAMOUS GIGGLE PICTURE.
But can we talk about how the other girl is sitting like this is her senior picture? HOW DOES SHE LOOK SO CALM AND COLLECTED ON THE PHANTOM’S REVENGE? This is some kind of fucking sorcery.