I’m a pretty conservative LDS girl, so when my boyfriend wanted to take me to a water park for my 20^th birthday, I spent two hours trying to find a bathing suit that I felt gave me adequate coverage. I finally settled for a tankini and a pair of swim shorts.

We went to Seven Peaks, which then was called “Raging Waters”. (Why am I old enough to have “back-in-my-day” facts?) This place had some of the most SKETCHY TRAUMATIZING NOPE LOOKIN’ DEATH SLIDES I’VE EVER SEEN. The one in question today is this one:

An engineer actually sat down and thought this up like, “You know what would be great? A roller-coaster with a double hill, but instead of safety restraints you slide face-first on a flimsy mat. Yes. I am a genius.”

So I’m obviously pretty freaked anyways standing in line for this Saw-contraption. But then I start to notice something… most of the kids DON’T MAKE IT UP THE SECOND HILL. And yes I realize they are children and yes I realize that I had just turned 20 years old. But back in the day I straight up weighed as much a child, okay. I was like a Tim Burton puppet of an actual person. Which… not anymore since having a kid and discovering that you can put coconut-flavored syrup into soda. Have you guys tried that yet!? Ohhhhh maaaaaannnn. Droooool.

What was I talking about again?

Okay so, I’m watching these kids being escorted off the middle of the slide and my fear of heights is suddenly replaced with my fear of public humiliation. No way is that going to be me! I’m not going to lose momentum and then loudly squeak as I skid back down to the bottom of the hill. Not happening!

I get to the top of the slide and look straight down into hell it goes down so far. At this point I’m thinking that I would prefer not to enjoy the stupid ride at all. But it’s one of the busiest days at the park, and I just Rip-Van-Winkle-waited in a sweltering line to get up here. Plus I can’t let my boyfriend think I’m not cool so here we go, we’re going.

I plummet down the slide like Aladdin trying to escape the cave of wonders. I start to go up onto the second hill. Good so far. And just as I’m about to crest the top I feel gravity start to tug me back down to the valley of shame. I’m like NOT TODAY SON. And I actually grab hold of both sides of the slide and physically pull myself up the last four feet.

I make it to the top and down the rest of the way into the pool where my man was waiting for me. I am so ecstatic about this accomplishment of sliding down a slide that I jump out of the water with my hands above my head cheering as loud as possible.

That’s when I see my boyfriend’s very uncomfortable face and desperate hand gestures over his chest. I just stand there staring at him, trying to decipher what this means. He mouths, “Your suit!” … I look down to see my girls completely out. 100% out there.

Turns out pulling myself up the slide had pulled down the bra part of my tankini. Mortified, I drop down into the pool to adjust my top… even though I had already cheered and waggled around in front of at least six dozen people. I got out of the pool and we hit it out of there. I didn’t even collect any of my Mardi Gras beads, we just left.

And I’ve never gone back to that place.

 

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