Alien Abduction

The writers’ conference is less than a week away, and I’m honestly freaking out. It reminds me of a ride I experienced a few years ago . . .

Its name was Alien Abduction—otherwise known as Gravitron. It’s an exceptionally popular ride at carnivals and fairs. You know, it’s the spaceship-shaped container of madness that spins for what feels like eternity. My daughter begged for me to ride with her, and despite my horrendous vertigo that’s increased with age, I reluctantly agreed. As I stood next in line, I remember thinking I had possibly made an error. Most riders were excited when they exited the attraction and looked like they had a great time. But some . . . dare I say some, didn’t look so great. Some looked disoriented. A couple even looked sick?

As the ticket-taker checked my wristband, I entered the colorful wheel of people with an overwhelming sense of dread. There was loud Mariachi music, bright red lights, and a smell that was rather unpleasant. My daughter and I lined up against the wall and tried not to touch it (germs). I took a quick scan of the youth that trickled in, and of the man who operated the machine from the center. If my calculations were correct, I had a few minutes left to escape.

But I had no time to waste.

I turned to grab my daughter’s hand, when the door slowly closed. I had waited too long to leave and was trapped in what I could only imagine was a proper glimpse of hell. At first, I didn’t feel anything. The music loudly thumped to a flicker of lights. Then the screaming started. A tremendous feeling of pressure pressed us against the germy wall, and for three horrifying minutes, we spun at maximum speed. I closed my eyes and prayed I wouldn’t die. By the time the ride was finished, I had uttered several curse words that would make a sailor blush (okay, not really). I would’ve given anything for a picture of me staggering down the ramp, pale as a ghost. Yes, I tackled Alien Abduction and the sight of a UFO makes me sweat. But you know what’s very odd? I look back at that experience with fond memories. I kinda liked it. Dare I say, I might even do it again.

The point? My conference is in less than a week, and I entered the spaceship. Tickets are paid, hotel is booked—door is closed. What will happen? Will I have fun? Will I conquer this thing? You bet. Will it be scary as hell? Yeah, it will be. But I’m in it to win it. And I’ll probably do it again.