I’ve never been to a trampoline park before because I prefer my groin muscles to be untorn.
Recently, we took my friend Becca—she is 11 years old—to visit a trampoline park. Becca is blind, and going to a trampoline park is a lot of fun for her.
“I love to bounce!” Becca pointed out six or seven thousand times.
For the unbaptized, a trampoline park is a warehouse filled with dozens of trampolines and children who have consumed gallons of sugar and handfuls of barely legal stimulants disguised as “candy.”
The first thing that happens when you enter the park is you get a pair of special socks with plastic grips on the bottoms. You will need to burn your socks after visiting the men’s room.
There is also a concession area wherein eager children can buy caffeinated beverages, which the children dutifully spill on the floor. Sometimes, to save time, employees pour drinks onto the floor directly after purchase. The floor is caked in past Coke spills predating the Hoover administration.
As a result,
many adults waiting in this concession line are unable to move their feet because their special socks are permanently glued to the sticky pavement. I met one elderly man in line who said: “I’ve been stuck to this floor since my 30th birthday.”
“Why don’t you just take off your socks and leave?”
“I’d rather die than go barefoot here,” he replied.
Inside the park, dance music throbs at a loud volume whilst kids run around, shrieking with glee. Usually, kids are accompanied by middle-aged parents who look as though they have come directly from work.
You can tell these adults are thrilled to be here by the faces they are wearing. It’s the same face you see while in line at your local adult correctional facility.
For sanitation purposes, all equipment is monitored very closely. Remember, thousands of kids use this equipment every month.…