« Forgettable All-Stars of the 80s and 90s | Main | SurvivorBlog 14.5: Sittin' Here, Enjoyin' My Coffee »
March 20, 2007
Dear Six Flags
I haven't been to see you since you became Six Flags. I was a regular visitor when you were just good old Riverside Park.
Yours were among the first rollercoasters I ever went on, and your park was where I eventually conquered my fear of the Ferris Wheel, in order to go on a monumentally-frustrating ride with someone I had a monumentally-unrequited crush on.
And I won a giant stuffed mouse on your midway that's still taking up space at my parents' house.
I was planning to go this summer to check out the new roller coasters, and tick off Agawam on Project 351. But now I find that my presence there would only serve to alienate your wealthier clientele. Which is the only explanation why you're now allowing the tycoons a VIP service, mostly to cut the long lines and avoid us sunburned, cotton-candy-stuffed commoners. All they have is pay you an extra $200 a ticket, and they are free to scatter the hoi polloi with a wave of their cane, march to the front of the queue, and take their plush seat on the Scrambler.
If my presence to you is that offensive, sirs, I will take my giant stuffed mouse and stay home (sorry, Mom, I don't literally mean I'll take the mouse).
Filed Under: Miscellany | Permanent Link, Comments (0) | Linking Blogs
