Mandatory annual trip to Kennywood: completed Friday, August 14th (just under the self-imposed deadline)
High temperature on date of trip: 92 F
Humidity: 6 bajillion %
People in attendance: seemingly the entire population of the tri-state area. Apparently, there was a picnic happening that day for employees of Giant Eagle. This was funny to us because our last few trips to Idlewild have always coincided with Italian Day, during which you cannot spit without hitting five guys named Tony and the tarantella will haunt your dreams for weeks afterward. We managed to avoid that crappy timing this year, but were at Kennywood while Italian Day was going on at Idlewild. We’re subconsciously drawn to crowds, which is funny because we hate people. But I guess we need stuff to bitch about.
Hours at Kennywood: 9
Rides enjoyed: only 10 (see also: People in attendance)
Vomit puddles spotted and narrowly avoided: 2
Buckets sweated: At least 35
Potato Patch fries consumed: about 10, personally. Chewing and digesting made me sweat more.
Other fried goods consumed: sadly, none
Children whose lives I changed (probably for the worst) by shoving him onto the Phantom’s Revenge with me: 1 (mine)
How I accomplished that: we told him we were in line for the Turnpike. (This charade didn’t last that long, but I did have to convince him that we would come out the other side alive and days later I’m not sure that he believes me yet.)
Number of times I saw that lady that I always see at Kuhn’s who kind of looks like the Cryptkeeper: 1
Minutes I blatantly stared at her: too many
Number of stars for that night’s post-Kennywood shower and slumber: Five. With a bullet.