I went on the Matterhorn last night. Sadly, it will be my last. What was once a fun, occasionally romantic thrill ride is now a high-speed torture device. Since I can no longer straddle my legs around the person/seat in front of me, I have to pretzel-fold them into the tiny space allotted in my third of the vehicle. This also means my shins are pressed up against the steel bars that support the seat back in front of me. I also means that every bump and turn causes my shin to slam into that steel bar. I have a lovely hematoma as a souvenir of my final Matterhorn Bobsled ride.
My cheese is sad.
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