Every summer my Father took me and my siblings to an amusement park. At the time of this incident, I was only about 14, and my brother and sister were one and three years younger than me, respectively.
One ride we had gone on as soon as my little sister was tall enough two years prior was the Skycoaster. It was a giant swing that hauled you up about 175 feet in the air and let you go, swinging. It was a ride that cost an additional fee, aside from admission, most likely due to the large number of employees required to operate the ride, and the cost of providing suits and bindings that attached to the ride to fit everyone. Still, it was pretty expensive for three people (about $80).
Two years after our first ride my siblings and I were very excited to go again. We were getting geared up, the equipment all strapped on and tightened. It was starting to get cloudy out and all of the other rides in the park started closing in the park due to expected thunderstorms coming our way. Except for our ride. We were ushered along by the park workers as they busily set up the ride. We whispered concerns to each other, but being kids we figured that they knew what we were doing. We are finally all strapped in and they start the machinery that pulls us up. It has started to rain at this point, and the rain starts pouring harder the further up we go. It was a long climb to the top, and by the time were reach the full height of the ride, a pretty good shower has started.
Well, my sister pulled the rip cord that let us loose and we went swinging trough the air. As anyone who has held their hand out of a window while going 70+ down a highway in the rain, raindrops hurt at very high speeds. And we were going fast. They stung all over our bodies while we were swinging, not excessively painful, but a real good sting. We were screaming and yelling out ?Ow!? and ?This hurts!? while swinging back and forth, my Dad recording with his cam-recorder all the while. We were very thankful when the ride was over.
When we got out of all the equipment and told my Dad our experience, he immediately requested a refund, saying that the employees should have stopped the ride at the first sign or rain (they had as soon as we got off). They refused, and my Dad asked for a manager.
Now there are two things that my Dad gets really worked up over, and that is people who get in the way of his kids, and bad customer service. Well, the manager comes over and again refuses a refund. My Dad exploded and began yelling (no profanities, but my Dad angry is a scary thing). Not so good etiquette on his part. I walk over to them (we were huddled under a shelter to get out of the rain) to see what all the commotion is about. My Dad is saying how we were screaming on the ride, and said how it had hurt. I even held out my arm with red spots from the rain on them as proof (which he seemingly ignored). The manager simply stated that our screams were screams of joy and excitement.
My jaw dropped. I can understand screaming on this ride, but when I stand in front of you and tell you that your ride hurt me, and instead you insist I was having fun!? I know I was only 14, but I was still quite competent and aware of my feelings. After scooping my jaw off the floor I insisted that my Dad replay the recording of us. Sure enough, my Dad had recorded my brother screaming out, “This hurts!”, very audibly. The manager could not refuse this proof, and refunded my Dad his money.
It still upsets me that this man would dismiss me and my claims of being in pain so easily. 0514-10