Misadventures in Cleveland

By Cecelia Francisco
September 23, 2004

Ryan Norris

Two questions popped in my head while driving through the remnants of hurricane Ivan in the middle of Pennsylvania. around 4 a.m.; Why am I doing this and is this worth it?

It’s early morning on a Saturday, I should just be going to sleep at this point, not on the turnpike in drenching rain.

“Check out those clouds, that’s hot,” my co-pilot, Meg, said. I looked out the window and saw against the dark clouds in the sky, a section of lighter clouds that looked oddly like a forming funnel.

“That’s not cool, it looks like a tornado,” Ange said from the backseat.

“Yeah, let’s keep going.” I said as I leaned on my gas pedal and squinted as the rain splattered the windshield in the darkness.

Eight hours of wondering why in the world I was spending my weekend driving to Ohio, of all places, we arrived in Sandusky. Sandusky is one hour west of Cleveland. It is on the edge of Lake Erie and is home to the Cedar Point amusement park.

Meg and Ange strapped themselves into roller coaster cars and were shot 122 miles per hour up a hill and dropped 400 feet at a 90 degree angle on the “Top Thrill Dragster,” the world’s tallest and fastest roller coaster.

After we meandered around the park, went on a couple of rides and in a few stores, we decided it was time to leave. Meg and I were walking stiffly, soaked to the bone from a water ride.

We walked through the parking lot to section 33D where my car was parked. As we changed our soaked pants under the cover of car doors, I spotted something on my driver-side window.

“Gross! That seagull must’ve been pretty full to leave that lovely present for me,” I grimaced at the giant blob that resembled bird poop. Meg and Ange laughed at me as I found a napkin to clean it off with.

I discovered, mid-wipe, that indeed it was not bird pooh, but it was purple, cotton candy flavored, Bubblicious. I spent many expletives, yelling about how rude people were before we got back in the car and were heading for Cleveland, where our Hampton Inn hotel room awaited us.

“Hi, we’re here to check in,” I told the woman at the main desk in downtown Cleveland. I was wearing an orange t-shirt and bright red pajama pants with coffee and hot chocolate mugs all over them. She looked horrified.

After we checked in, it was off to room 913 with our nifty card swipe keys. We spent the least amount of time possible for three girls to change and clean up from our day of sweat, coasters and water rides.

We headed downstairs and found ourselves a taxi. It’s nice to know that you may be in a different city, but the taxi drivers will still hit nearly everything around them as they zip through the city.

We arrived in tact at the Hard Rock Caf

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Cecelia Francisco

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