Thursday, May 31, 2012
The Day my Jordans Died
Now granted we are not travelling at 4Gs or Mach 5 or whatever it takes to propel a space shuttle off the ground yet she can't stomach the ride in the back seat for more than two hours...or can she? Hmmm... I don't know what happened there. I used to be able to ride roller coasters in my younger days. Maybe I just can't stomach it anymore. Not since Batman: The Ride episode in 1992. Back then I never tied my shoelaces. I don't know many people that did. It didn't occur to me that it should be something I might consider while my long lanky legs dangled precariously from the ride while they locked me in.
I should have paid more attention to the signs they were right there in black and yellow. I had my Jordans on but they were not laced up for ballin' purposes. I was enjoying the ride until I realized mid-twist that the centrifugal forces and my cool loosened shoes were not a good match. I literally watched in horror as my shoes dislodged themselves from my long narrow feet and planted themselves in Gotham City's water reservoir. All I could think was I hope they have a ride called Penguin: The Submersible Submarine. I left the ride shaken but mostly just shoeless.
Great America told me that they were not responsible for lost articles and they were not calling in divers to make a retrieval. I was S.O.L. Shoes Out of Luck. I was forced to purchase some flip flops at Joker's gift shop and was relegated to ride the Log Ride and Splash Mountain for most of the afternoon. Yet it wasn't the same without my kicks. The Bulls were on the verge of winning their first Back to Back title and my shoes were swimming with the fishes. I haven't been the same since then. Maybe it is psychological, maybe I need to just take some Dramamine and get a re-do but luckily for my wife the backseat is the one adventure I can conquer.