Call it what you want, but it's become a full-blown addiction. It started a bit over three years ago with just a little dabbling with some Florida stuff. She laid off for quite a while, but this summer the cravings returned. Call it what you want. Those with street cred know what I mean. She wants the "bullet," yearns for the"phantom," can't live without the "great white."
I'm worried. I don't understand it. I tried it a few times, always with her, just to see what it was like. I swear, I would never do it voluntarily. Walter and Davis refuse to ever do it and think I'm foolish to go along with it. Does anyone have a cure?
Here's what these demons look like:
THE PHANTOM'S REVENGE,
THE GREAT WHITEThere were others, of course: Thunderbolt, recently featured in the New York Times, whose cars take a precipitous drop as soon as they leave the station; Jackrabbit, that changes directions faster than a bunny with Willie on its heels; The Racer, I can't explain why these two cars don't collide as they race simultaneous through the coaster structure, switching tracks with impunity; and of course, the Boardwalk Bullet, which is simply fast and creaky.
All I can say is that Erin can't get enough. I think it's time for an intervention.