Dizzying Heights

I'm not sure whether or not I've mentioned this, but I'm scared of heights. This isn't an all-encompassing fear... I don't mind flying, I can climb on the roof of my house, and I don't freak out in high-rise buildings. But I am afraid of heights. Our trip to the Stratosphere brought this phobia to the surface. I was a little timid walking around the observation deck because I realized that a mere chain-link fence was the only thing separating me from a long drop followed by a splattering stop.

Despite this fear, the thrill-seeker in me was somehow convinced that the thrill rides (located on the top of the Stratosphere) would be fun. I still don't know what the fuck I was thinking. We're standing in the line to buy the tickets that would get us to the observation deck... and the lady behind the ticket counter asks us "how many" rides we wanted. I immediately noticed that one of the rides was down for the count and secretly breathed a sigh of relief that we wouldn't be doing all three. But before I could say "No rides for us, thanks," the kids said "All of them!" Well shit. It's bad enough to look like a chicken. But to look like a chicken when compared to your own kids?!? No. Dammit, I guess I had no choice but to swallow my own fear and agree to ride the two remaining rides.

So we went straight up to the observation deck, where the uneasiness set in almost immediately. (Did I mention that a mere chain link fence was the only thing separating me from a long, long fall?) Just as I got used to walking while hyperventilating, it was time to hit the first ride... the X-Scream. And just as we started boarding the ride, the older one started really freaking out. "Daddy, I'm scared. Daddy, we're going to die. Daddy, I don't want to do this. Daddy, why are you bleeding?"

"Ummm, because you're clawing my arm."

"Sorry. Daddy, I'm scared. Daddy, we're going to die. Daddy, I don't want to do this. Daddy, you're really bleeding a lot."

"Sorry kid, I'll try to bleed less next time you pierce my skin with your razor-sharp, fear-strengthened talons." Did I mention that I'm scared of heights? I was really at my own wits end, and here's my kid freaking out. I really didn't know what to do. Did I hold it together for the sake of the kid, or did I allow her fear to amplify my own, causing us both to run from the ride, screaming like frightened little girls in a cheap horror flick?

No sooner did I look at my wife and say "I'm not sure if I can do this..." I was really considering chickening out... than I found myself strapped in to the ride. Somehow, through all of this, the surge of blood stopped, but I'm not really sure how. The kid never stopped clawing me. In fact, there was one nail that I'm sure completely penetrated my arm. Maybe the claw doubled as a cauterizer... maybe my own fear caused all of my blood to leave my extremities. Regardless, the kid was screaming, the blood was no longer flowing from my arm, and I could not escape my fate.

I don't really remember what happened next, but based on the picture above, my own fear must have subsided, while my daughter's own fear escalated. Heck, maybe she simply absorbed my fear. All I know is that the ride was fun, and it was over before I knew it. As we got off the ride, the big kid said "Let's do it again." So we did. We rode the other ride. If you're wondering how that went, just re-read this article, but omit the part where we do another ride afterward.