I never wanted to bring this up again, but…
Lillie McFerrin posts a “Five Sentence Fiction” prompt.
This week it is: Festival
Our First Date
Our first date didn’t actually last very long, not long at all; and I wouldn’t exactly call it a festival, much less a celebration.
She was so cute as she insisted we ride the Ferris Wheel, and I didn’t want to lose an opportunity to get to first base with her, although it was so against my better judgment to go on that ride.
It was one of those swinging seats, upon which she heartily thrust back and forth over my rising protests and attempts at explanations that I don’t do well on high dangling and fast swaying rides.
She got the message, more like the BIG picture, and way too late – all over her shoes, skirt, and that hot little blouse she was wearing.
It was not a festival, not even close, maybe more like a cause celebre or an international incident, or, if you’d like, you can call it a blow-out, an unexpected episode of mass regurgitation, a serious miss-fortune, a ferry-ous calamity, close to a damnable disaster, an upchuck of the first degree, a turned tide, bad luck, or a one wheel stand – but after how she reacted, referring to it in her presence as a “slight set-back” would be a serious and severe understatement requiring uncertain but certainly swift punishments.
This reminds me of when Bill and I went to a carnival as newlyweds. It was fun, until he turned green…
Green? Must of been Bill’s gills…. ;-)add
I did a similar first date. From female perspective and not quite as graphic. lol. Ew but well written.
Welcome to the “First Date Festival Ferris Wheel Throw Up club”.
No dues. You’ve already paid them.
Hahaha! Green, one of my favorite colors yet not not so much when splattered on my shoes.
I catch your drift… even though I wasn’t able to catch mine.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Randy
My not-yet-but-soon-to-be-and-still-is-33-years-later wife and I had a similar encounter on the classic Parachute Drop ride. No technicolor yawns ensued thankfully but our stomachs were in our throats and the guy running the ride gave us a couple extra drops—it was a slow day—despite (or because of) our protestations. You’ve obviously hit a chord here. Nice job!
As long as it was a chord, and you were in accord.
You would not see me parachuting – first date, last date, today’s date, or no date.
Thanks for chatting. Hope to hear from you again.
Oh God not sky diving! It was just a ride at Knott’s Berry Farm. An open basket on a central pole that gets hauled to the top and then free falls to be slowed by a parachute canopy. No way I am stepping out of an airplane unless it is parked at the gate and all tray tables and seat backs are in their upright position!
I assumed that’s what you meant, but still way over my head (ha!) or willingness to experience.
I’ve been zip-lining which is still scary but I like – and have come to a vertical jump on one which had to be done with a bungee cord, and I had to be pushed off involuntarily when i was not aware that that was what the guide had planned for it. Was not a good experience. It seems to me an anti-suicidal instinct. “I ain’t jumping out of, off of, or down from any high ledge. I get squishy-toed just looking down.”
I hear you…