Sarah’s Adventure with The Giant Slide

I posted this story on my Facebook page last week, and the response I got was HUGE. I had a ton of comments and likes, as well as emails from people asking me if they could share the story on their page. So I decided that it needed to be on my blog, because, well…everyone needs a good laugh.

So here is my adventure/fight with the Giant Slide, reposted from Facebook. Enjoy the hilarity.

While at the Puyallup Fair today with the hubby and kids, we decided to do a family race down the Giant Slide. Now, I’m not sure if that is this rides’ official name, but that’s how everyone knows it.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, the Giant Slide is just that: a 20 story (I may be exaggerating here, but only slightly) slide with 3 or 4 huge bumps or drop-offs. You grab a burlap sack, climb twenty-five thousand stairs to the top, then slide on down. (Here is a great photo of the Giant Slide, and also HERE.) The first time we went, Arianna reached the end first, Sam second, Asa third, and I glided in 30 minutes later in dead last (again, I’m only slightly exaggerating here…). I think it must be because I have extra "drag" in the…um…back end area that made me go so much slower.

Once I reached the bottom, where Sam and the kids had already returned their sacks, eaten dinner, and taken a nap while waiting for me to reach the end, the ride worker pulled me aside and told me a little secret. According to her, if you ride down the slide on the very edge where less people have worn away the "slick" of the slide, you will go much faster. I thought "ssurreee…how much faster could it be?" but decided to challenge the family one more time to a race. I got up to the top and whispered to the ride worker up there that I wanted to ride the edge. He looked at me and said "Are you sure?" I rolled my eyes. Of course! Lets do it!

So we all line up once again at the start, the ride workers counted to three, and we were off!! The first 2 seconds of the ride were fine until I hit that first bump…..and I caught air. I mean CAUGHT AIR. Not only was I going 3 bajillionty miles per hour but my butt must have been at least 4 inches off my little burlap sack every time I hit a bump.

At this point I started to fear for my life, and much to the disgust of parents and small children standing in line, I started yelling some pretty severe expletives. I can’t say I remember everything that flew out of my mouth, but I’m pretty sure that nothing I said was over 4 letters long.

To make matters worse, I had the bright idea to wear a dress to the fair. Yes, I planned on going on rides all day. Yes, I love all kinds of rides that fling people through the air and into oblivion. And yes, I still thought it was a great idea to wear a dress. But hey, I would be cool on this 80 degree day, and I got to wear my cute new belt with it! Total score, right?

Wrong.

I don’t know what’s worse…having all three hundred thousand people innocently enjoying their day at fair suddenly see a large white woman’s dress fly over her head as she goes flying down a giant slide screaming curse words wearing:

1) Regular, cute underwear, maybe pink with a nice little bow or something. Or maybe some lace.

Or

2) Big, giant, white Mormon garment underwear that look like what chicks wore during the oppression of women. The kind that used to be white, but are now a faded gray/blue color from being worn under new jeans or accidentally washed in the colored laundry countless times. The kind that go down to your knees and are perhaps the most unflattering, ugly underwares known to man.

I mean, either scenario is bad, I just happened to live out bad scenario number 2. Anyone that knows what Mormon garments look like can attest to their unflattering-ness and their general ugliness.

Anyway, as I’m screeching down the slide at breakneck speed trying to keep my clothes on AND not die simultaneously, I go over the last bump of the slide and…completely lose my burlap sack. I skidded to the finish line balanced on what would have been my bare butt check, except for my knee-length Mormon undies, and my elbow, which unfortunately did NOT have the protection of said Mormon panties. I think I went a full 8 feet without that stupid burlap sack underneath me.

As I laid at the finish line, swearing, hoarse, and dizzy, I realized that all around me, as if in surround sound, I could hear laughing. Lots of laughing. As I tried to sit up without vomiting I realized that every single person within a 40 yard radius around that Giant Slide was laughing hysterically. At me. Including the jerks at the top who tried to warn me..AND the stupid jerk at the bottom who told me do go down the slide on the edge in the first place. And I don’t mean these people were subtly laughing…I’m talking falling-over-peeing-on-themselves-snorting-choking kind of laughing.

Glad I could be of entertainment to you all.

Don’t they hire clowns and magicians for entertainment at fair? Go watch THEM.

Once I was able to see straight and stand up, I realized something.

I WON! I beat the stupid kids AND the stupid husband and I WON! I got to the finish line a full 10 seconds before they did! Suckers!!!!

I was able to forgive the ride workers then. I gave everyone a thumbs up, took a bow, then, with as much dignity as I could muster, walked away proudly to our next ride.

I was able escape this trauma with only a large rug burn (slide burn??) on my arm. It feels like what can only be described as "What The Burning Fire In Hell Must Feel Like". It would have been worse had I only been wearing cute, regular underwares; I wouldn’t have been able to sit down for weeks!

And they say Mormon underware isn’t really magic…..

And here it is the day after…it kept getting worse!

I also need to add the comment that my husband Sam posted on this story:

The best part (as an observer) is that when she hit the last bump her dress went flapping up into the wind and obscuring her view of the bottom. She therefore didn’t see (and thus couldn’t describe) the moment of sheer panic I saw on the woman’s face at the bottom when she realized that she (the woman) was about to get plowed into by my wife traveling at .1% of light speed. She dove out of the way at the last minute as my wife slid a factual 8 feet on her (apparently) skid proof underwear.

So there you have it. Hope that made your morning that much better. Anytime you think you’re having a bad day, just think “At least I’m not being laughed at by tons of people while flying down a giant slide with my dress over my head exposing my underoos.”