- FERRIS WHEEL

JOHN:	Excuse me.  Excuse me?  I hope I'm not ... 
	crowding you ...
  
DORIE:	(flustered/embarrassed)  No.

He slides into the empty seat next to her and takes hold
to the 'bar'.

JOHN:	I would have taken another seat but the line is
	too long to let anyone ride by themselves.

She nods but doesn't respond.

JOHN:	 ... They force you to be a couple whether you
	want to or not ... not that I mind.  I mean
	it's a pleasure.

He looks at her, sitting bolt upright and perfectly rigid.

JOHN:	Are you comfortable?

DORIE:	Just fine.  Whoops ... we're off.

She squeezes her fist tighter, clinches her eyes shut and
presses her feet to the floor.

JOHN:	Are you all right?

DORIE:	I'm fine. 

JOHN:	Are you sure?

DORIE:	Couuuldn't be better.

JOHN:	But you're not looking?

DORIE:	No.  Heights.  I'm frightened of heights.

JOHN:	And you ride a ferris wheel?

DORIE:	Just once a year.  On my birthday.

JOHN:	Happy birthday.

DORIE:	Thank you.

JOHN:	You're welcome.

He looks at her gripping the 'bar'.

JOHN:	Your knuckles are turning white.  Are you sure this
	is good for your circulation?

DORIE:	What doesn't kill me makes me stronger, type of thing.

JOHN:	So you do this in lieu of a birthday party with cake
	and ice cream?

DORIE:	Oh no, I have that too, when I get through.  Like a
	reward.

JOHN:	But you go through this first.

DORIE:	My Daddy started it and I keep it up.

JOHN:	He was frightened of heights?

DORIE:	Oh no, he just believed you should do something that
	frightens you at least once a year.  Builds character.
	Strengthens moral fiber.  You ought to try it sometime.

JOHN:	I am riding.

DORIE:	No, doing something you're frightened of, this doesn't
	count if you're not frightened of heights.  I had this
	cousin once who tried to pretend like she was frightened
	of small places until she got locked in the attic during
	a thunderstorm.  Lightening struck that house and burned
	it to the ground.

JOHN:	Now she's frightened of fire?

DORIE:	No sir, she's dead.  You can't go messing with things
	like this.

JOHN:	Truth is stranger than fiction.

DORIE:	Don't you know it.  Once I had this art teacher named
	Miss Thumb, who was missing two fingers. She used to say
	to paint all you needed were your ten good fingers and
	she'd hold up eight.

She demonstrates and then grabs for the 'bar'.

DORIE:	Whooopppss!!