Sweat poured down from my forehead, stinging my eyes and leaving tracks like tears trailing the length of my face.  My back ached, my muscles strained, and I regretted wearing flip-flops as my feet were covered in streaks of black grime and dirt.  Oh, Florida, land of humidity and SeaWorld!

The day had begun innocuously enough, with grand plans of visiting SeaWorld--particularly the penguins--with my aunt.  The bus, we decided, was the best option to get to the park from our hotel because not only would we not have to worry about traffic, but also we could avoid paying for parking.  So our journey began with my 70-year-old aunt aboard the lazy morning shuttle to SeaWorld.

Our plan was simple: see the penguins and leave as soon as possible to avoid the relentless torment of the Florida sun against my fair, freckled skin.  Things started to go awry right as we departed from the bus.  As we were walking up to the entrance of the park, my aunt checked her person, realized she didn't have her purse on her, and proceeded to enter a panicked state.  She didn't say any of this to me, though, she merely pointed to the bus driving off.  Is it okay to leave a frail woman behind if your endgame is the noble pursuit of retrieving her purse?  I thought so as I sprinted after the bus.  Luckily for me, highways in Florida are different than highways in New Jersey, and for some reason this highway had stoplights.  I was able to flag down the bus, retrieve the bag, and return to my aunt before some nefarious character approached her (although in retrospect, it's not as though someone could have stolen her purse).

Sweating, but bag in hand, we were able to enter the park.  I hadn't realized prior to arriving that my aunt would require a motorized scooter to navigate through SeaWorld, however, at the time this didn't seem like a big deal.  Together we saw the penguins and then planned to catch the hourly bus at 2:30.  I did not take into consideration that my aunt could not leave the park with her scooter.  SeaWorld, though, does have a solution to this conundrum--you are allowed to exit the park in a provided wheelchair, and just leave the wheelchair at the busstop for a park employee to pick-up later.  This appeared convenient and thoughtful until I was in what seemed like a vast and unending expanse of SeaWorld parking lots with the Florida sun pounding against my exposed back as I pushed my aunt forward.  Every pore on my body was excreting sweat, and I definitely did nothing to make the ride smooth for my aunt.  When we finally had traversed the parking lots, I had to push my aunt across the highway to reach the busstop on the opposite side; it was like a ridiculous game of Frogger.  However, we crossed without anyone getting splattered on the road only to realize that it was 2:40, we had missed the bus, and the next one wouldn't be there for another 50 minutes.

At this point, I was surely sunburned, dirty, smelly, and irritable; there was no way I was waiting for the bus, so I hailed the nearest cab.  That driver, for asking no questions and for not commenting on my bedraggled state, was my savior. 

Never again will I step foot in SeaWorld, for the memory of the excruciating pain that followed over the next week from my sunburned back is too painful, and never again will I underestimate the Florida heat.