RAGING Waters

Are you a RAGER? Then RAGING Waters is the place for you. The waters there are RAGING. And so are the lines for french fries and dippin' dots. When I think about the prototype person who lives to rage, whose every breath is a breath of exhilaration, RAGING Waters theme park in San Jose, CA is exactly the place where I expect to find this person...shriveling, deteriorating, wilting like a sea urchin crossing a salt field.

It was my idea to go to Raging Waters and I have spent the last 24 hours berating myself for such a poor choice in weekend activity. I thought it would be fun, the way that fireworks are fun even when you're an adult. Then I realized, fireworks really aren't much fun...to the sober adult. And the same rule should most definitely apply at Raging Waters. There are a lot of sad things about Raging Waters, but in my opinion, the saddest was that there was no bar to belly up. In fact, the ticket-taker actually laughed at me when I asked him where the cocktails were. "Those aren't cocktails" he said, spitting through his braces, "Those are yard stick freezies." Whatever that is. Would I need to endure an entire day of raging fun sans mojito? Tragic.

The first thing I learned at Raging Waters was something about myself. And while this lesson won't do me much good out in the world, I suppose I sought out the situation because it was a lesson I really needed to learn. I do not like water slides. I figured this out about 3 seconds after I let go on the first slide. That thing was fast, man. And steep. My stomach was in my mouth, my bathing suit quickly became a wedgy. And I remembered, I'm not so much into speed and heights, or wedgies for that matter. In fact, I pretty much turn to jello when approaching any type of ledge. Brian kept asking me: how could you have just swum from Alcatraz and now wimp out on these slides? I guess I'm just not really a RAGER, Brian.

The second thing I learned at Raging Waters had nothing to do with myself. It was more a commentary on how pathetic Americans can truly be. Do I need to write an editorial about the RAGING obesity issue in America? Or can I just post some choice pictures and let my viewers select their own verbiage to describe what they see? What I learned was that people don't just go to Raging Waters for the slides, they go for the grub. Because that's what love costs, $5.95 for the large sized fries.
Here's the menu at Raging Waters:
Tub of french fries
Pizza (tastes like de-frosted cardboard)
Dippin' Dots
Nachos
Burger
Ice cream

All of these culinary options make an excellent pairing with the bathing suit. And I'd also like to know: after drinking those gallon-sized jugs of cola, where are all of those kids pee-ing? They are pee-ing in the raging water, that's where.

Come to think of it, I actually felt quite a bit of rage while at Raging Waters. But with a little bit of love and lightheartedness from my friends, I still managed to have a pretty ok time.