Living in south Florida like I do, I get to Orlando every Labor Day weekend for a family visit revolving around my niece’s birthday. When you live by the coast, any coast, in Florida, going inland is not desirable. Yet millions of Floridians like me routinely make the Orlando pilgrimage at least once a year simply because we can. It’s a two- or three-hour drive from just about anywhere in the state and with Disney at your disposal, it’s hard to resist a weekend trip here and there. The vacation other families plan and save months or years for we take on a long weekend, usually for granted.
So I spent last Sunday riding roller coasters with my eleven-year-old daughter at not Disney nor Sea World this time, but Universal’s Islands of Adventure. Despite losing count of how many trips we’ve made to Orlando over the years, this was our first time at a Universal park. And despite her tender age, my precious child has somehow managed to cultivate—in her mother’s footsteps—a love of roller coasters. Though she’s barely (and I do mean by a hair) tall enough to ride most of them, she’s been on the floorless Kraken at Sea World Orlando, Superman and Batman at Six Flags in a foreign country no less (Mexico), and now a few more.
When you walk into Islands of Adventure, it’s impossible to ignore the screams and sound effects emanating from the Incrediable Hulk. The term “roller coaster” doesn’t do justice to this massive green beast. My little thrill seeker was drawn like a magnet. I noticed the line indicated less than thirty minutes wait time, so knowing the waits for these rides can be far more monstrous than the rides themselves we stepped in.
I marveled at the beverage stand inside the ride terminal, selling water, soft drinks, and beer. Yes, beer. That’s all I need, I thought, is a beer before getting on this thing. I don’t know about you, but my body goes into adrenaline overload in these situations, one result of which is the need to eliminate absolutely anything that might be in my digestive and excretory tracts before the ride begins (too much information perhaps, but the truth). Unless there was a bathroom waiting before the ride boarded … my thoughts ricocheted from pondering drinking to pondering other people drinking. Not entirely convinced that I would not pee or puke on anyone, I wondered who might pee or puke on us? Just what, this time, were we in for here? I didn’t need a beer. I needed a shot of tequila. Make that two shots.
