... the park was closing.
"We can get one last ride in on Splash Mountain! If we run."
"Ok, but I'm not running."
"Bab! You HAVE to run!!"
We made it just as the red velvet rope, universal symbol for "don't you dare duck under this because shit be closed", clicked shut.
"Are we too late?" I cried, worried the lack of hustle may have killed the magic.
The teenager looked slightly panicked, asked, "Uh, how many of you are there?"as he peered through the dark to the non-running stragglers in the distance, for whom the velvet rope would not lift.
"Just two! It's just us! We'll be fast, we promise!"
"Ok, duck under. And HURRY!"
We whooped and ran through the empty maze and hopped in the last damp seat. The cold breeze from the known and feared excitement ahead plastered doped-up grins to our tired faces. The logomotive plummeted into the tunnel full of robot woodland creatures; Cheers from the workers echoed, so happy another day of making memories was over.
And that was how two best friends caught the last glorious ride of Splash Mountain one summer night not so very long ago.
Thanks for hustling, Bab.