Autobiography of DOOM! - Chapter 1
People often wonder what I was like as a kid. Hell, half the time, even I ponder that question. I look back on my life, and see myself as being three distinctly separate people, that share a common streak of varying levels of dementia.
So, to answer that very question (and hopefully find out what my purpose in life is) I will take a trip down memory lane, and hope I don’t break down somewhere along the way. Plus that, I plan on dying before I reach 25, so I need to tell my story so that it may be handed down for all time.
PLK: The Human Pop Tart
By now you’ve all heard my non-sensical ramblings about the day I was actually hurt by a theme park. Up until that day, I vehemently defended theme parks, and their safe environments. Of course, I still do that, but I pick my parks a bit more carefully now.
The day in question is still a bit cloudy as you can imagine. I can’t even remember what day it was, and I’m too lazy to dig out my bill from the emergency room to find out. It was toward the end of summer, and shortly before the tragic events of 9/11.
PLK: Employee Party of DOOM!
I’m jumping ahead a bit to the end of the summer season, but bear with me. I want to save some of the better stuff for last.
So, I barely survived my one and only season at Happy Ancient Egypt Land, and it was time to attend the annual Employee Party. At first, I wasn’t interested in going. After all, why should I go to a party celebrating a park that put numerous people (including myself) in the Emergency Room?
The real selling point on the flyer was unlimited rides on the Go-Karts. I figured, “Hey, I have the chance to do donuts legally tonight, why not?”
PLK: Bullying little kids is fun!
In the last article, I went over the bases. Set up the location, and all the back-story of how a park actually came around to hiring a walking lawsuit like me. This one is going into the worst ’security’ incident I ever had at “Happy Ancient Egypt Land.”
When you become a Lead at this park, you essentially take on every position imaginable, yet still get paid minimum wage. As you can imagine, there’s not much incentive to actually do your job, other than the ability to boss people around, kick people you don’t like out of the park, and take really long, frequent breaks.
PLK: And so it begins…
Yep, kiddies. I’m back with a whole new round of the “Dysfunctional Park” series. Same old antics, new park.
*NOTE: The names in this story have been changed not to protect the identity of those involved, but rather to cover my butt from a libel suit.
Back in the Spring of 2001, I decided it was time to get another job at an amusement park. Since I don’t live close enough to any of the larger parks, I decided to go back to my roots and work for a small family fun center named “Happy Ancient Egypt Land” in Radlands, California.
“Happy Ancient Egypt Land” seemed like the perfect park to work at. There were plenty of newer rides (as opposed to the 40-year old attractions at Santa’s Village), lots of hot chicks working there, and some really nice views of the female lifeguards at the water park.