TRIP TO ORLANDO BRINGS BACK MEMORIES OF AMUSEMENT PARKS

It stunk to be a single rider in a cart made for doubles, but that was my lot in life.

My friends had it all figured out -- how I could spent part of this week's business trip to Orlando getting work done and the other part having fun.

I planned a solid schedule of morning-to-night business meetings, hoping to pack in a lot of work in two days.

My friends envisioned something else.

"Are you going to Disney World? They've got that new millennium thing," one said.

"Go to Universal Studios!" urged another. "That's a lot of fun."

And a third: "Dude! They've got all kinds of water parks around there! Pack your bathing suit!"

My friends aren't too bright. Could you imagine me, alone, going to all these kid-infested amusement parks?

For one thing, you don't just drop in at Disney World. It's a multi-day event that requires incredible walking shoes, lots of energy and a loan so you can both get in AND eat lunch. And you simply can't go alone. Going alone to an amusement park would be the most depressing experience since "Schindler's List."

Not that I've actually been alone at an amusement park before. I always went with my two-parent, five-kid family. And boy, did we do amusement parks -- King's Dominion in Virginia, Six Flags in St. Louis and Atlanta, Disney Land, Disney World and countless carnivals, fairs and boardwalks.

I forgot my suitcase on that trip to King's Dominion and had to wear a cheap T-shirt that said, "I $pent my vacation at the gas station." Get it? A dollar sign instead of an "S." That was hilarious in 1978.

I've got to hand it to my folks, though. Taking five kids anywhere is an expensive and mind-numbing proposition. And today, I can appreciate that they had to cut corners wherever possible.

But in my adolescence, I was absolutely mortified that we packed and carried our lunches into amusement parks. Mom always stuffed the cooler in one of those lockers near the front of the park, which meant returning there around noon no matter where we were.

Even MORE mortifying to a young teen -- an age group typically embarrassed by anything parent-related -- was sitting there eating turkey bologna sandwiches with siblings as other people walked by eating amusement park food on sticks.

But the worst was going on rides. There always seemed to be an uneven number, and I was the odd girl out.

See, rides are usually set up to have two people to a seat or car. If one person walks up to be seated, the ride operator grabs a microphone and yells something like, "WE'VE GOT A SINGLE RIDER HERE! ANY OTHER SINGLE RIDERS? DOES ANYONE AT ALL WANT TO RIDE WITH THIS FAT AMAZON WOMAN? NO? OK, THEN."

Maybe that's just how I remember it.

At least my experience was better than The Other Half's. Apparently, his parents took him to Silver Dollar City once, where his brother immediately was stung by a wasp, his father refused to stand in long lines and the entire family was back in the pick-up an hour after their arrival.

Maybe what I need is a highly positive experience at Disney World, one that could erase the memories of warm turkey bologna and lonely roller coaster rides.

But after that news story about the large woman who fell out of the ride at Six Flags, my feet are staying on the ground. I don't care how long it's been since that happened.