A day spent at Busch Gardens. [ramblings, really fucking long] Apologies: this isn't a terribly well-written or organized post. I'm super super tired and more than a little stoned, and I'm just kind of venting as I go. There is a halfway decent payoff, though. So a while back I got my hands on a day pass to Busch Gardens, and I thought I'd drive down to Williamsburg and enjoy a beautiful summer day. So, right off the bat, I was kind of floored by just how many scootypuffs there were. I saw probably half a dozen before I got through admissions and into the park proper, and god there were SO MANY. I tried counting them and taking pictures, but gave up on that idea almost immediately because otherwise I'd just get angry and wouldn't enjoy the day. I thought about trying to be a shitlord, but decided against it for the same reason, and just settled for walking around at a brisk pace, weaving through crowds without crashing into everyone, and climbing stairs without needing the handrails to lean on and a three minute break for every five steps. Another thing: the park transport system. Busch Gardens has two ways of getting around without walking: a miniature train and a skyline. Predictably, the lines for both of those were always insanely long, and predominantly made up of fats that haven't quite hit scootypuff stage yet. I stayed off of those for most of the day, figuring it was faster and easier to just walk to wherever I was going and I wouldn't have to sit in obeast sweat. Towards the end of the day, though, I got in line for the skyline. I got quite a kick out of watching the lifts list massively to one side or the other whenever some hideous eatbeast climbed on. So, what do the deathfats and scootypuff riders that can't go on rides do at Busch Gardens, you ask? Wow, you must be new here. Aside from looking miserable as their smallfat and fat-sympathizer friends go on rides and have a good time (and I will give them credit - they do that great), they eat. And eat. And eat. When it came time for me to eat lunch, I chose a restaurant that was a self-serve pizza/pasta/salad buffet. If you're familiar with CiCi's Pizza, imagine that at rush hour, and you've got a pretty good idea of what my view at lunch was. Not only were the restaurants packed, but the whole part was absolutely lousy with small food stands, cafes, and other places to get hideously overpriced park food, and the fats were eating it up.  If you've ever been to Busch Gardens (or probably most other amusement parks), you know that outside most coasters, they have a spare seat with a harness they can use to see if you can ride without getting catapulted off and splattering across the pavement like a Hefty bag full of rancid lard and red food coloring. It keeps deathfats out of the lines, which makes me happy. It also means that, if someone in a group of friends can't ride, they get left outside to sulk while the rest of the group goes to have fun. Outside each big ride, you'll usually have a small group of people waiting for friends or family to get off the ride. Most of them will end up chatting, but the fats will always end up sitting on a bench or a curb, scowling at their phones or at the ride. Anyway here's the payoff I promised. Towards the end of the day, I decided to hit up Alpengeist one last time, then make my way back to the parking lot and avoid the worst of the closing traffic. I jump in the line for the front row, behind a group of four human-shaped guys, and settle in for the wait. As a car pulls into the station, one of the humans points out the group in front of them only has three people in it, and ask if I want to go in front of them, so I can get right on the ride. Awesome. I move through their group without forcing any of them up against the railings or crashing awkwardly into them, and walk onto the station platform. My smile fades, though, when I realize I'm next to a fat fuck. I briefly consider bailing, but decide, fuck it, I'm not letting some obeast ruin my night. I jump into my seat and pull my harness down. She pulls hers down, it bounces off her fupa and goes back up. She pulls it down and sucks in, and I hear it click once and her sigh. One of the attendants comes up to check our harnesses. Mine is fine, but hers needs another click (at least according to the shitlord ride attendant, shout out to him). The attendant grabs the handles and pushes. The harness sinks into her gut and she croaks like a frog, but the harness doesn't click. She grabs the handles and pulls, while he braces his feet against the floor and pushes at the bottom. She groans in pain, and I hear the harness click. With what little motion my head has, I can see that her stomach is bulging out around the bottom, and her tits udders are completely smashed by the top. She's so thoroughly pinned that she can't move her torso at all, and the ride hasn't even started. Meanwhile, I can wiggle around under the harness just fine. Unfortunately, there's no great punch line to this. She didn't pass out from lack of air, break her ribs, or REEEE to the ride attendant (at least not as far as I heard). I think she was super embarrassed. Good. Maybe she'll take the initiative to become a human...nah, that takes work. TL;DR: Busch Gardens is full of fats, they eat a shit ton, can't ride any actual rides, I get to see one get pinned under an uncomfortably tight harness, can't imagine how uncomfortable that must be, oh well, fuck her.