It’s the last ride of the night at the local fair. The line is long, the staff already has the chain up, and they’ve announced clearly:
Ride Attendant: “Everyone in line now is the last group for the night!”
I’m the cutoff point. As I’m checking my phone, a dad and his maybe seven-year-old son slide in behind me. The kid is already teary-eyed.
Kid: *Sniffling.* “Dad, I wanna go on! I wanna go on!”
Dad: “We’ll try, buddy, we’ll try.”
He taps my shoulder.
Dad: “Hey, man, come on, let him go in front. He’s a kid.”
I glance back. The kid is now full-on watery-eyed theatrics.
Me: “Then today is his lucky day!”
The dad’s face brightens for half a second, right until I continue:
Me: “Because today, he’s going to learn that crying won’t get him anywhere in life, and it’s time to prepare for disappointments.”
Dad: “You’re a cold, heartless man!”
Me: “I’m a cold, heartless man who knows when a ride is closing and got here on time.”
The attendant walks over and stands at the chain right behind me. He repeats the announcement to those walking up to the ride:
Ride Attendant: “Sorry, folks, that’s it for tonight!”
The dad just stares at me while I step forward with the rest of the group.
Me: “Hey, at least he’ll remember this ride, even if he never got on it.”
