Alright, the skydiving thing comes back.
If I was going to do this it was going to have to happen soon so as to make available other plans. Now, technically the website says two days notice are needed, but on Saturday afternoon, just for the heck of it, I phoned the skydiving place to see if there was room for one more the next day. This time, the person I spoke to on the phone was much, much friendlier and left me with a much better feeling. In fact I wasn't even asked for a deposit - though maybe this had to do with the short notice.
Next day, Sunday, I show up about half an hour before I'm scheduled to jump in order to fill out the paperwork. I see maybe 10 people scattered around the edge of this old, decommissioned hangar. Some in jean shorts and tank tops (the customers) and some in their own jumpsuits (the staff.)
I find the office and who should greet me but a very nice lady with a lovely blue cast on her left arm. One of the comments left was "Pull sooner!" This made me chuckle. Another guy, not injured that I can see, comes in and starts me on the paperwork. (In a nutshell: Yes, I'm legal. Yes, I want to do this. Yes, I know I can get hurt or die jumping out of a plane with little more than a sheet to slow me down. No, I'm not going to sue you for any boo boos I get.) Not a minute later, another guy comes in in a neck brace. Two visible injuries in under three minutes. This doesn't exactly provide reassurance and I tell them as much. I find out that at this location, they've never had a tandem jump death, but they have had broken bones when people didn't follow the instructions and ended up landing wrong.
I make a mental note to listen extra carefully to the landing sequence.
There are three batches of jumpers ahead of me since jumps happen on a sort of first come first serve basis. I sit back and try to get a feel for the place. The dynamic was not unlike when I got my nose pierced - very "let's do this" with minimal sugarcoating and a lot of dry humour.
After maybe 20 minutes, even though I'm keeping distracted and I'm not feeling too nervous, I decide to take a gravol (the ginger kind) just to steady my stomach for the initial top over teakettle tumble out of the plane. It has ample time to work since I don't actually get into the plane until roughly an hour and a half after I was booked to jump. I'm given a jumpsuit and goggles (I wear glasses) and the guy I'm jumping with, jump-master R (same guy I spoke with on the phone, actually,) fits me into my harness. I'm feeling remarkably calm - very focused. DH gives me what is apparently one kiss too many as people start hooting and Awwww-ing at us as I head out of the hangar. He's staying on the ground and taking pictures while I'm getting settled into this itty bitty plane (no seats, we're all just sat together on the floor) and following instructions...
Tomorrow: Takeoff and the jump. Spoiler: I don't die.
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