Waste of a Perfectly Good Funnel Cake

My propensity for motion sickness has been a thorn in my side since I can remember. One of my earliest memories of a particularly messy bout with it was after the Tilt-A-Whirl ride at Boblo Island (woot Boblo) when I was about 12 years old. Let me first share my humble opinion that the guy who thought up this ride is one sick f***. I just remember that ride spinning and spinning and spinning and….well, you get the drift. My friends were laughing and whooping it up during the ride, but I was eerily silent. That, in and of itself was suspect and completely out of character for me. I was usually one of the loudest (refer to aforementioned diva story for history) everywhere we went. My silence quickly got their attention however, at which time they noticed my marshmallow fluff shade of pasty white quickly being overcome by a slight greenish tint (reminiscent, but not limited to, split pea soup). Somehow, I managed to keep down the corn dog and funnel cake until the never-ending ride stopped. At which time, everybody cleared a path for me and I heard one of my friends yell, “She’s gonna blow!” I ran down the ramp and hung my head into the fly-infested, stagnant garbage can and let loose. I must have been in there awhile because when I finally came back into the light, I had quite an audience. I got my bearings, wiped the puke from my mouth and yelled, “Show’s over! Come on, you guys never seen a person blow chunks before?” Then I was off to get another funnel cake…

For this reason, to this day I have never been back on that ride anywhere. When I do walk by it at a park or carnival I shake my head and yell words of warning to the unsuspecting (or perhaps, sadistic) kids in line, “Beware of the Tilt-A-Hurl!”