Back in the late 90s, I was thrilled when a school trip to Alton Towers was announced. Although something of a scaredy cat, if I can pluck up the courage to go on a theme park ride I usually enjoy it (one exception being the Tango Ice Blast, formerly the Playstation, at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. A part of me died on that ride last year.)
The already intense excitement of queing for Nemesis was doubled when I found myself next to an attractive classmate in the queue. I struck up conversation, and looking back, for a 14 year old I think I was being reasonably suave; my gentle flirting bringing to mind Hugh Grant in his prime (for my money, 1994 - Four Weddings and a Funeral).
Imagine how my heart sank, then, when my double positive was swiftly turned to a double negative, as first an overzealous attendant removed my glasses, then an even more jobsworthy individual instructed me to spit my brace into their hand, citing health and safety.
Owing to the fact I could not see beyond 5 metres ahead, my enjoyment of the rollercoaster was severely limited, whilst the irretrievable loss of dignity suffered in having to spit my Big Mac-laden dental retainer into an older boy's hand meant the fledging romance was crushed beyond repair.
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