“Purity is texting me. She’s ready to go.”
Clarity looks up at me.
“It’s your choice,” I say.
“I mean how long do you think the wait is from here? I don’t know if that’s fair to Purity to keep her waiting.”
“Or, another way you could look at it is we’ve waited all day for her and she could wait an hour for us.”
“That’s true.”
Clarity jumps up and down.
“Fuck! I don’t know!”
She looks up at Goliath’s first drop and my eyes follow hers.
“I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.”
“Are you scared?”
“I’m fuckin’..about to pee my pants. Look at that shit!”
A train drops down the track and everyone screams. It’s a slight hook at the top and then it’s just straight fucking down. I’ve never in my life seen a rollercoaster with a drop that high or that steep. Somewhere, down below the bushes where we cannot see, the people in the train are still screaming.
“I’m sure Purity is really tired.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Will you be mad if I back out?”
“No, I will not be mad.”
“But you really want to go on this, don’t you.”
“Yes, this is the one ride in the park that I really want to go on.”
“Fuck,” Clarity says, shaking her head. “You’re not making this easy!”
“Sorry, I’m just telling you the truth.”
“Maybe you could go on it by yourself. I’ll stay in line with you until the end, and then you can just go, and I’ll be there when you’re done.”
“But that doesn’t have anything to do with us inconveniencing Purity, does it? She’ll still have to wait.”
“I’m just gonna text Purity. We waited on her—you’re right—she can wait on us.”
“It’s up to you. There’s no pressure from me, ok? I’m not making you go on this ride. I want that to be infinitely fucking clear.”
“Yeah it’s infinitely fucking clear I’m just scared shitless.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’m scared of that first drop.”
“I imagine most of the people in this line are scared of it.”
“Are you??!! You seem so fucking calm!!”
“Yes, I’m scared shitless, like you. When I look at that, I think: Probably if I knew more about physics I wouldn’t be in this line. And I think: People do die at amusement parks. They die on rollercoasters. They’re pretty safe but every once in a while one of those cars does come off the tracks and kills twenty people. That’s what I’m thinking. But I mean, when I got my wisdom teeth removed, senior year in high school, the dentist was like Usually we put people under but if you want you can have just a local anesthetic. And I was like: Is there any disadvantage to the general anesthetic? You know, why is he giving me this choice in the first place? And this guy is like: Well, since you asked, some people react badly to the general anesthetic and it kills them. And I’m like: What percentage of people have this death reaction to the general? And he’s like: About 1 in 200 million. And I was like: Put me under, doc!!”
Clarity’s eyes are bloodshot; her brow is crumpled.
“I think you’re trying to make me feel better with your story but it’s not working.”
“I’m just saying if we throw some numbers at this problem, the chances of us dying on this rollercoaster are one in 24 million!”
“According to who?”
“According to the internet.”
“Yeah but is it a reputable page or is it some GeoCities homepage that still has the under construction graphic on the top and like rainbow divider lines and a fuchsia background and blinking text—”
“It’s from Google.”
“How can you even calculate a number like that?”
“By comparison,” I say, “the odds of being struck by lightning are one in seven-hundred thousand.”
“But you see what I’m saying,” Clarity says. “Is that per year or over your entire lifetime because those are two different statistics.”
“It’s per year.”
“Which one?? The lightning one or the rollercoaster one?”
“I don’t know. I closed the page. I’m just saying..mathematically..we’re gonna be fine.”
Then another train of cars hovers over that first drop point of Goliath and hangs in the air. People start screaming before it even drops. Then the train crosses the tipping point and it races down the track at almost free-fall speed.
People screaming all the way.
I mean that drop is almost literally a drop—a straight-down fucking egg dropped off the World Trade Center.
“We’re gonna die,” Clarity says.
“Well. We’ll die together.”
“Again you’re not helping.”
“I’ll just be quiet.”
“No. You rode the people mover with me, which..sounds like..statistically..is more dangerous than the highest rollercoaster in the world—”
“Second highest.”
“Second highest. So..I’m going on this with you because, when I said, Will you go on the people mover with me? you didn’t hesitate even though it’s a pussy-ass ride—”
“It’s not a pussy-ass ride.”
“No, it is a pussy-ass ride. I mean look at you: You drove Purity’s ass out here all day and hung out with her bitch sister when you don’t even know me—I mean that’s a nice thing to do.”
“To be honest I only did it as a favor to Ashley, so she could go see improv today. So, whatever chivalrous intent you think I might have—I don’t. I’ve just known Ashley for like ‘ever and she’s the first girl I stuck my dick in so when she needs something I usually say yes.”
“You lost it to Ashley?”
“Yep. And she was on birth control and she told me that while we were fucking—that’s so hot—and she was like Cum inside me and I was like Yes, ma’am and next thing you know my non-virgin cock was splashing and spraying cum all up inside that girl’s pussy and coating her cervical cord and I was like uh, uh, uh until I had my final uh and Ashley was like, How does my pussy feel? and I was like, Perfect.”
Then I notice all conversation has stopped around us.
I look back.
A woman is cupping her hands over her son’s ears, giving me this stern look like she’s my second-grade school teacher or something.
Clarity looks at the woman, then at me, then she puts both hands over her mouth and busts out laughing.
I look at my shoes and shake my head.
It’s tough being an X-rated person in a G-rated world.
(But I am up to the challenge.)