So I have several fears in life but there is one fear that is greater than the rest. I am so afraid of falling to my death. I am not particularly afraid of heights but falling from a great height terrifies me. I try not to let this affect my daily life but I also live in a city where the tallest building is a church and I am not going in there anytime soon!
So last year, Darren and I went to New York City for 10 days and it was so much fun. I was like a kid in a candy store. I wanted to do everything and go everywhere and I think we came pretty close. Now Darren is afraid of heights and as stated earlier I am afraid of falling. So one night we decided to go to the top of The Empire State Building.
Honestly, even as I type this I know it was a stupid thing to do but at the time, in the excitement of NYC it had to be done. We had a VIP pass to bypass the lineups. Then suddenly we were standing in an old building with old elevator doors and a lot of people. Oh My Jesus, they crammed us into this tiny elevator that rattled and shook the whole way up to the 80th floor. As we travelled up, there was a spanish man who was clearly more afraid than me. Suddenly he pulled out his rosary and began smashing his face off the side of the elevator causing it to shake and shutter even more. At this moment I really did think we were about to plummet to our deaths and live my greatest fear. I was just about ready to punch him in his face when I felt the elevator stopping. It stopped with the abruptness I didn't expect. It was like a 16 year old punk slamming on the brakes of his Dad's taurus!
Oh My God! I just needed to get out of this elevator NOW. As we walked out of the elevator I hear this loud lady screaming to the crowds to please wait for the next elevator to take them the rest of the way up. I stood there, like a passenger on the Titanic as the last lifeboat left. This sinking feeling that I needed to get back into an elevator that is a million miles in the sky was worse than a thousand kicks in the balls. I started to panic and Darren was too busy trying to figure out his own escape route to be of any help to me. I looked to the left and saw this little lady standing by a door that said staircase. OMG this is it. I first asked if the staircase had windows. She said "no." I then asked if we could walk up the stairs and skip the line (like the line was my problem) she said "sure, straight up, 86th floor." As we walked up the stairs there were odd sounds. None of which were that of a passenger plane flying into the building but all of which sounded like that to me.
Well, we did it. We were at the 86th floor. I opened the door in absolute horror. It was Dark, it was hot, it was 1am and there where hundreds, if not thousands of people around me running to the edge and taking pictures and talking languages I didn't understand and I was convinced everyone wanted to push me off the edge. Ever overweight person I saw, I fled out of fear that they would cause me to fall off the building. Darren and I knew that after travelling up a billion miles into the sky we had to go outside, take pictures and prove it.
I stood by the glass door, frozen. I knew I had to push it open but what if the wind sucked me out and splattered me over 34th street. I told Darren to hold me from behind. He asked why? I said fucking hold me or we both may be dead. I push open the door.... holy Jesus... WTF were we doing up here. I was one gust of wind away from literally shitting my pants and every step I took on the observation level the prairie dog came a little further out of the hole.
At one point as I wiped a tear from my face I told Darren, who was stiff and silent still holding my shirt to stop. We stood in a spot that sheltered us from the wind and the kabillions of freaky loud tourists running around acting like this was safe or something. I told Darren that we had to focus, act normal before we end up in fucking cuba cause I totally look like a terrorist and we are in the empire state building with purses acting like we are nervous. So we decided to be cool. "Let's take some pictures" I suggested. Darren reached toward me to get the camera out of the case I was carrying and in the state of mind I was in, I was convinced, in that moment that he tried to kill me. I freaked and through myself again the wall. I told him to go first. "Go where? he asked. "Darren seriously, I am not fucking arguing now. Go stand by the edge so I can take your picture." was how I worded this. He refused. He told me to go first. I told him to "grow the fuck up and let me take this picture." If you know me and Darren you know that this went on for some time and no doubt ended in my pushing him to the edge and taking a very fast picture! Then it was my turn. Whose idea was it to take picture in the middle of the night on the top of NYC? My hands were wet, my legs were shaking and my underwear on the edge of destruction. I slowly reached out, touched the edge, screamed at Darren to hurry and take the damn picture, saw the flash and immediately went inside and back to the staircase.
That night as we descended the stairs I was prepared to walked the entire way down but alas they only let us what those top six stories and then back in the elevator for the rest of the descent. Going down was much better and I would like to say that after this experience I felt proud of myself. That I had faced my fear and gotten over it. Yeah not really. My legs were shaking the whole way back to the hotel and it took a dozen beer to get me to sleep that night.
So yes i guess I am glad I can say I was at the top of the empire state Building but I will never go up there again. I don't care if someone had 10 million dollars up there for me..... well maybe, but I will be wearing black underwear next time!
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