It is amazing how one small moment can ruin and otherwise wonderful day. It can also highlight how we are the ones in charge of our own emotions. In reflection that small moment can either fester, grow, and infect the entire day much as a small wound can do to our bodies or we can put it in its proper place and let it shrink until, while not forgotten, is treated and fades to the background.
What happened at Hershey Park is oddly something I read about earlier this year on either the Busch Gardens Reddit or Fan Facebook group. Someone had gone to Hershey Park and had a new appreciation for BGW because of a ride attendant on a power trip. I have no idea if this is the same one or if Hershey’s training is simply poor and they have ride attendant’s operating by different rules.
Now for the actual retelling of events. When we got to Hershey and got settled in we decided to ride the Reese’s Cupfusion ride together. It is a version of a dark ride that I call a Boo Blaster. You sit in a small car, travel around, and shoot things. We, the five of us, two adults and three children rode it. I rode with Abigail in one car and Lara rode with the boys in the other. That will be important in a minute.
Much later in the day we were back in that part of the park and while waiting for Roland and Abigail to ride a couple rides Windsor didn’t want to I noticed the line was much shorter and asked him if he wanted to ride it. The line was shorter but not that much. It was still a good wait and while waiting Lara sent Roland over. Remember how she had ridden with both boys earlier in the day.
I never thought this would be a problem but after waiting in the roughly thirty minute line we arrived at the front and I was told the boys couldn’t ride. The sign at the front, on the app, and online all say that for their height they need to be accompanied by a supervising companion. In all my years of going to parks that means they need an adult or a person over the age of 14 with them. That is it. Thus end the rule. Once that older person is part of the group their height can ride the ride.
This ride attendant extended the rule to mean each child of that height, not age, height, needs their own adult with them. This eliminates single parents and anyone else with an odd numbered ratio of children to adults.
In retrospect my decision to simply tell the ride attendant to go f himself was the wrong decision. I should have been more of a jerk. I should have pretended I was in an improv scene and yes anded his belief. I could have taken that in many directions, “Yes we need an adult for each child. I will see if I can borrow one from the line,” “Yes…and the person working peak hours was clearly untrained which is why they put their best on at 8:00 PM on Sunday,” “Yes…and you’re going to call guest relations to figure out how I get my 30 minutes back,” and my personal favorite, “Yes…and the sign clearly states we need need a supervising adult for this height range and therefore their should only be one adult allowed to ride at a time.”
The point is I shouldn’t have directly told the underpaid ride attendant to go f himself. I should have shown him what a good f’ing looks like.
David Huzzard Writes 