wooden roller coasters

Central Jersey Gothic

It’s winter, and you visit the beach. The sky is gray, the ocean is gray, the foul-smelling liquid trickling from the sewer pipe is gray, and sand even has a faint tint of gray. The fog rolls in, smelling of salt and oozing gray.

It is November and you are thirteen. The old wooden roller coaster at the boardwalk creaks when the wind blows, and one of you adolescent friends tells you in a rushed whisper about the boy who died on there once. No one knows his name, but they are certain that it happened.

The boardwalk has survived two hurricanes. You are certain that it will not survive the next. Like the pier, it will one day be in your town’s small history museum. That is, if they ever rebuild it.

Your town was once famous for having the most bars in a square mile. Then nearly everything burnt down. The bars. The roller rink. The condos. Everything burns. Fire is cleansing, they say. A chance to rebuild. No one cries arson. 

You take a field trip to the Liberty Science Center. They tell you, if you look out across the water, you can see the Statue of Liberty. But that is neither here nor there.

You drive to the North to visit cousins. There are nothing but mountains and trees. Your cell phone has no signal. Your cell phone is dead. The clock radio in your car has ceased to work as well. How long have you been on this road? You swear you’ve seen this rest stop before. Maybe you should stop and ask for directions. But a voice from the backseat whispers “Keep driving.” And you do. You do.

You drive to the South to visit cousins. The pine trees grow taller and everything smells of Christmas. But it’s wrong. The cheer is gone. The sun sets and you see something flapping it’s wings in the sky. “It’s just a bat.” your mother tells you, her voice shaking. It’s just a bat.

You’re still in South Jersey. You’re not sure where you’ve come from or where you’re going, but you know you’re in South Jersey. You feel eyes boring into your back. You feel a hot breath on your neck and think there’s a reason Weird New Jersey started in this state.

You decide to go to college in the North. Someone asks where you’re from and you reply “Central Jersey.” They laugh, but you don’t know why. It happens again. And again. Someone asks where you’re from and they laugh. Finally, you ask why. They reply between guffaws, 

“There is no Central Jersey.”

dasfeministmermaid  asked:

📝🔥?

📝 - Story from your childhood.

So there’s this amusement park in my state, with an old-school wooden roller coaster, no upside down nonsense. And there’s a tunnel, it’s absolutely pitch black in there. And my cousins and I, we’re all smaller individuals, especially as kids. 

We switched seats on a moving fucking roller coaster. Some of the ballsier onces switched carts, like physically climbing from one to another instead of swithcing with the person next to you. It’s a wonder we’re even alive tbh

🔥 - Something spicy you like? 

I really like the curry from this Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown.

Imagine taking Ahkmenrah to an amusement park.

The faint sound of screaming in the distance was the first thing you noticed as you both exited the car. You turned toward the park. Towering above everything else stood the park’s main attraction. A huge lumbering double wooden roller coaster. Two trains. One red and one blue, raced against each other non-stop all day long and into the night. The high-pitched shrieks of faraway terror sent your stomach into knots, as you recalled your first time on that particular coaster.

Memories of your friend taunting you as you both made your way up the steep climb in opposing trains. Quickly you tried to wipe the sweat off your palms to get a better grip on the safety bar in front of you. The anticipation you felt as your train peaked at the top. Holding still for seconds that felt like hours. Then slowly gaining momentum faster and faster as it plummeted straight down. Your body whipping around bends at such a high rate of speed, causing you to crush the person seated next to you. The feel of the wind beating against your face so roughly that tears trickled out the corners of your eyes. Being too terrified to let go of the bar to wipe them away. The double bump towards the end shot you out of your seat. Even though your backside only lifted an inch or two, for a split second you thought you were dead. In your mind you saw your body ejected from the train, splattered on the track and run over. That’s when you screamed. A horrible, terrible wail from the depths of your soul that lasted until the end of the ride. When your winning train pulled to a stop your knuckles were white, your throat dry and hoarse. You slowly pulled your gnarled and shaking hands off the safety bar and exited your train. Your legs trembling and your hands sore.

You chuckled under your breath as you wrung your hands together as if feeling the soreness now. You looked over at Ahkmenrah. His face was pale, his eyes wide. He stared at the giant coaster. You could hear the faint clickety-clacking noise of the chain pulling both trains slowly uphill. That sound always made your heart race.

“Those are good screams, I promise.” You told him, trying not to laugh.

Ahkmenrah nodded gravely as he watched both trains plunge down the hill. Then whip around the corner only to disappear behind the souvenir and food shops.

“Come on.” You said taking his hand and dragging him toward the entrance of the park.

Ahkmenrah moved slowly behind you. You understood his hesitation. The noise of the rides, the screams, the music. It was a lot to take in at once. You squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. He gave you a meek smile.

“They call this an amusement park, correct?” He asked.

“Correct.” You answered.

“Yes, well it seems quite amusing so far.” He muttered.

You turned the corner toward the ticket booths. Right before the turnstiles sat the same old weathered statue, Cowboy Joe. An old fiberglass cowboy with a large brown hat, boots and vest sitting on a park bench. Mostly he was just there to take pictures with. The parks unofficial mascot. You’re parents had taken countless pictures of you with that cowboy. Year after year, summer after summer. Until you were too old, too cool, for your parents to take you to the park. But even then as silly teenagers, every year you still took a picture with Cowboy Joe.

As you walked up to the main ticket window you heard the demented cackling of Laffin’ Sal. Behind a large pane of glass next to the ticket window was a mechanical woman with a large gap-toothed smile. She waved at the visitors as she laughed maniacally. The park installed Sal back in 1931 to raise the spirits of visitors during the Great Depression. Her laugh sounded deranged, diabolic even. The kind of laugh a mad scientist would have. These old relics had a strange, yet whimsical macabre look to them. Their creepy eyes always seemed to follow you no matter where you went. You laughed at Ahkmenrah staring at Sal with an unsettled look.

“You keep staring like that and she might jump out of that window and getcha.” You whispered to Ahkmenrah as you grabbed his shoulders and making him jump.

He turned around to stare at you, clearly frightened.

“I’m just kidding. Come on.” You said taking his hand and leading him through the turnstiles.

You walked down the ramp. Passing all the different colorful flowers lined along the path. The entrance to the park was only accessible through a tunnel that ran underneath the road above. The smooth concrete walls created the perfect echo. Screeches of delight echoed off the walls as a half-dozen children ran past. Ahkmenrah laughed as he watched a few adults, walking fast, trying to keep up. The echoes of merriment died down as the sound of parents reprimanding their children took over.    

As you neared the end of the long tunnel the aroma of sweet delectable food filled your lungs. Cotton candy, candied apples, popcorn, kettle corn and all types of fried deliciousness. Your mouth began to water with every step. You looked over at Ahkmenrah. His eyes were closed and he was licking his lips.

“What is that smell?” He asked as he inhaled deeply.

“Guilty pleasures. And we will try every single one.” You said with an impish wink.

He blushed. “I think I shall enjoy that.”

It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light once you exited the tunnel. Bright neon lights adorned the candy and souvenir shops. Beckoning visitors to come in and spend their money. Racing incandescent bulbs lined the long alleyway of games. Luring guests in with promises of giant prizes and trophies. Dusk had always been your favorite time at the park. There was nothing more beautiful than the vivid dazzling lights around all the rides. The dizzying effect of the fast-moving lights had a strange hypnotic allure that could not be denied. The whole park came alive at night, much like the Museum of Natural History. You glanced over in Ahkmenrah’s direction. The apprehension, the nervousness all seemed to have disappeared from his face. His eyes were huge and bright, mesmerized by the enchanting display before him. His mouth was wide open and slowly spreading into a smile that stretched ear to ear.

Ahkmenrah’s eyes roamed all over the immediate area. He watched as a vendor bent out of his window to hand a small child a monstrous bag of pink and blue cotton candy. He then turned his attention to a younger couple playing a game. He chuckled as he watched the boy try again and again to win his girlfriend a prize. Only to have her throw the ball once and claim the victory instead. She proudly handed her boyfriend a large purple tissue paper flower on a two and a half-foot stem. The boy hung his head in shame only to perk up a moment later. He started to dance around with the flower. Twirling it around like an umbrella before bowing and handing it over to his girlfriend. Ahkmenrah took your hand and brought it up to his lips. Kissing it sweetly and making you blush.

“So what do you want to do first oh great pharaoh of Egypt?”

Ahkmenrah looked at you, his eyes shining and said. “Everything.”

3

Why do we like roller coasters so much?  Is it the speed?  The breath taking heights? The thrilling twists and turns?  Or because it allows us to escape from our everyday lives for a few exhilarating moments?

The Good Stuff investigates by going on the worlds tallest, steepest and fastest wooden roller coaster!  All in the name of science, obviously.

Thrill Seeker

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “I’d rather caress my asshole with a chainsaw.”

“No way, Barnes,” you said, “I’d rather caress my asshole with a chainsaw.” He gripped your hand and tried to inch you a bit closer to the large, wooden roller coaster standing before you.

“Oh come on, doll, even Steve rode this with me back in the day,” he said, smiling, “if he can do it, then you definitely can!”

Glancing up once again at the splintering wooden planks and heavy metal bolts barely holding this hundred-year-old ride together, you felt your stomach twist and tangle into thick knots. Heart palpitating within the tight confines of your chest, you tried to steady your shaky breathing.  

“You made little, tiny, asthmatic Steve ride this rickety death machine?” You doubted that the coaster could even bear the weight of your fist, much less the combined weight of it’s riders.

“Yeah, he threw up on it once,” you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly, “okay, twice, but he was fine! I mean, we had a few cuts, bumps, and bruises, but- look are you going to ride this thing with me or not? ”

“I don’t know,” you said, “what would I get in return for risking my life?”

Lips pressed in a thin line, he groaned as he bargained with you, “I don’t know.” Thinking on it for a moment, he snapped his fingers and looked at you, “The magnets? I’ll let you put the magnets on my arm!”

“Really? Even the “the boobs are real, the smile is fake” one? And the “I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in” one?”

“Jesus- yeah, I guess,” he said, knowing he would come to deeply regret his decision sometime in the near future.

“Deal.”