Under normal circumstances, there is no way in heck I could be coerced into riding a 20-ft ferris wheel powered by teenage boys climbing the up sides and swinging themselves out into thin air pulling the wheel down with them. Especially when it's clocking in with a rotation or two per second. Especially when the safety devices holding the riders in place amount to a metal strip a foot in front of their chests with a width of two inches and the thickness and strength of a kleenex. At least not while sober. In fact, probably not while drunk, brainwashed, and/or under hypnosis either.
But while enjoying a moonlit beach with my friends on the last night of our class's weekend trip to Bombay? Hey, why not?
Alive, uninjured, and having a blast--