Alton Towers
I seem to be having a bit of a vent. Sorry. Here we go again...

Pink Goddess organised an Alton Towers trip with her family. Normally, organising her family is like herding kittens, but we managed. We set off from three different places in three different cars at the same time.

I... well, I drove to Alton Towers. It's pretty much due north, and thanks to the satnav, we got there fairly quickly. We were the twentieth car in the car park or something. We parked up and waited. And waited. And waited. "WTF?" we thought. Well, Pink Goddess' dad was on the M6 toll, she found. She asked why we hadn't taken the M6 toll. By this time I was too pissed off to be polite about pointing out because we'd driven north, whereas the M6 toll runs east-west.

They got there an hour later. I was bent double with embarrassment by then, as about a million people had walked past our car (right by the entrance) wondering why our car had three people not speaking to each other in it.

Finally we met up. In we went. How bad could it be? Some highlights:

* Pink Goddess' sister stepped on a duck. No, really, she found a small, half grown duckling, and stood on it. The poor bastard let out a miserable, unhappy quack. She stepped back sharply, and stood on the damn duckling again. Luckily the RSPCA missed that one.

* The whining and moaning from the little ones about having to walk. No, not the kids, Pink Goddess' sister and mother.

* My brother-in-law's near neck attack. Did I mention that Pink Goddess' dad wouldn't speak to me when I first met him? Well, he still hadn't. (And still hasn't, the ugly fat twunt). So, he kept my brother in law between him and me at all times. Poor chap's head nearly fell off with the effort of trying to hold up one end of two conversations at once. You know Wimbledon crowds? Fast forward that, that's what the poor guy looked like.

* The most triumphant moment of embarrassment ever. I so am not making this up. We were in a queue for some ride or other. In front of us was a small group of young ladies. Behind me, ugly twuntyflaps lights what looks like a somewhat ugly cigarette. "Noooooooooo..." says my internal voice. The young ladies are policewomen, and, yup, that's a fucking spliff. How stupid do you have to be?!?!? It turns out that, yes, you can actually cringe so hard that you pull a muscle. I did it that day.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Thu 27 Nov 2008, 22:21, Reply)