I have been to Six Flags over Georgia once in my life, and that will remain a fact about myself for the rest of my life because I never plan to go back.

My adventure at Six Flags came about when my boyfriend at the time and myself planned to go for his birthday. We were already going to be in Atlanta for a writing competition of mine, so it made sense. Neither of us had gone before, which made it a bit of a risk, but we decided to take it and I preordered tickets.

We woke up early that Saturday morning, drove to Atlanta, attended the competition, and then made our way to the opposite side of the big Capitol. It took a little over an hour before we saw the colored flags and arching metal. Our excitement only grew as we parked the car and made our way to the front gates.

Despite me worrying for a quick second that our tickets wouldn't scan or they wouldn't allow our bag or something, we made it in without a hitch and soon were walking through the park trying to decide which ride to get on first. There were so many options and we had hours ahead of us to try them all.

Except...we didn't. After five hours, we had ridden only three roller coasters and spent fifteen dollars on a pretzel vendor. Not only were the lines horrendously long, but the rides continued to break while we waited, leaving us wasting precious time and then finding we couldn't even get on. As we neared the end of the day, we knew we only had time for one more roller coaster before we would have to start the four hour ride back home to meet curfew. We decided on the famous Superman ride just so we could go out with a bang on an otherwise fizzing day.

Before we could even get into line, I had to place my bag, phone, and keys into a paid locker so there was no risk of any of it falling off on the ride. After another hour and a half waiting in line--all spent by us making jokes about the ridiculousness of it all--we finally made it to the front of the line. We were only a few steps and minutes away from the highlight of our day. Nothing else would matter if we got to ride this one ride. We reach the gate, smiling, barely containing my excitement--

"We are so sorry for the inconvenience, but the Superman Ride is facing technical difficulties. It will be a couple hours before we can have it operational again. Thank you for your understanding."

I. Was. Crushed. We didn't have enough time to wait and were forced to exit the line, walking away from the thing we had waited so long for. My boyfriend tried to comfort me but it was no use. In my mind, his birthday had been ruined and the entire trip was a disaster. I just wanted to grab our stuff and head home.

Except there was a problem with that too. We got back to the locker and typed in the code...to no response. All of the electric-run lockers were completely dead and no one could get their stuff out, meaning my phone, wallet, and car keys were now completely inaccessible. If I hadn't been freaking out before, I was then. I had promised my parents to be back by a certain time, and now I couldn't even call them to let them know we weren't going to make it.

After talking with park workers the only solution we were given was to walk a mile to the front of the park, alert the help staff, and then make the mile trek back in the hopes that they could get it working again. And that is exactly what we did. We weren't even allowed to ride the golf cart with the maintenance man over to the lockers. Regardless, by the time we got back they were up and running once more and I yanked my stuff out of the now unlocked cubicle and began the hike to my car.

All in all. It wasn't a horrible day. We still got to spend time together and after I had time to get over it, it became a running joke in the relationship that trips never work out for us (Savannah...Jacksonville...a lot of stories there). To this day, I still talk to my friends about how Six Flags "held me hostage" for an hour. I personally won't be returning to the amusement park anytime soon but it is a great story to tell.