The Coney Island Tragedy

A cold wind blowing through Brooklyn today carried with it the smell of hotdogs.
If you listened hard enough you would also find that it carried the sounds of the craziest wooden rollercoaster ever.
The rollercoaster, in case you don't know, is called 'The Cyclone.'

At first site you wouldn't think it could scare your socks off, let alone your pants. Let me just say that it will take your shirt, your loose change, and quite possibly your soul.

I set out to ride this beast today with the lovely Carrie Thomas in tow. She brought her camera and we were also determined to take some glamour shots down on the pier. Unfortunately her camera battery suddenly went low and she couldn't continue shooting.

We went to two different stores in search of 3 volt batteries. I've never even seen a 3 volt battery, and I'm not quite convinced that they exist. The shopkeepers looked at us bewildered when we enquired about them. They too seemed not to have heard of these special batteries.

We decided to give up and head back to the boardwalk. I looked over at the cyclone to take in a voyeuristic glimpse at the people screaming and flailing. What I saw was quite shocking. Oh my god, quite shocking indeed. The coaster was stuck at the top of the first big climb and they were evacuating people and walking them down the tracks.

Carrie and I ran to get a closer look until we were standing under the great white beast gazing up as one by one the passengers of this doomed coaster ride were carefully taken down the tracks to safety. We are afterall ambulance chasers by nature. Carrie fussed with her camera trying to get a shot. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get a picture of the woman in the hot pink jump suit that was two sizes too small, uneasily wobbling her way down, gravity and the crowd below just begging for a mis-step.

So, the tragedy at Coney Island is this.

We went to take photos. It didn't happen.
We went to ride the cyclone. It didn't happen.
The biggest tragedy of all is that it was Carrie's first time on the Island of Coney and she didn't get to have a hotdog. Instead she had to settle for a sad piece of pepperoni that the wind whipped into her face, covering her in grease and cheese. The even sadder part is that when I said goodbye to her, I think there was still a bit of sauce on her forehead and I didn't say anything.

Apparently I'm going to burn in hell.

Well, I often display a photo from the lovely Carrie Thomas, but this blog will remain without photo in memory of those who lost their ride on the cyclone.