“I feel bad. I waste my legs,” my friend M says to me over lunch at Dreamworld.
“And all you want to do is get out there and get amongst everything. You want to ride every ride here and here I am too scared.
“And you go to the gym every day and I never exercise.”
I smile at her and tell her at least I can go on rides and my leg does add a level of humor to any Dreamworld trip.
For example on both The Claw and The Giant Drop you can easily spot me from the ground for as soon as the rides drop and the rush of wind hits my legs my right leg has no control but to shoot out straight. It must look hilarious for those on the ground below.
The first time I went on The Giant Drop I was wearing a skirt and while getting strapped in it struck me, what if the pull of gravity pulled sucked my leg clean off? Like a speeding missile hurtling towards the ground if that hit someone on the head it could kill them.
I spent the ride to the top frantically clinging to my leg and trying not to envisage the headlines “Flying Leg Kills Kid,” and “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no it’s a leg,” that would fill the news bulletins the next day.
Luckily I managed to stay in control of that potentially dangerous weapon and I learnt the valuable lesson to always wear pants to a theme park.
Not that visits to theme parks have been entirely without injuries. I now refuse to go on the Wipe Out despite the thrills it provides. The last time I went on it, with the way it thrashes about I couldn’t keep my leg in place and every time the ride jolted upside down my leg would flip up and whack me in the face. I was sure I was going to end up with a black eye and a lump on my head which would have been awkward to explain that no, no one had beat me, I had just coped a leg to the face.
I don’t think there are many people that can say they have kicked themselves in the face.