The Fair

Brittanie Hyink

            Three dollars at a fair was the most exciting gift that my mother could have given me when I was 10 years old. There were so many options and interesting things that I could spend my money on, and my mother loved to give it to me because that meant that she could be alone for at least an hour. Although it may seem that getting the three dollars would be the most exciting part of going to the fair, it was really the fact that I could sit on a bench and be entertained by the people that walked by. People that go to the fair are the most interesting, funny, and outrageous people. They are loud, hairy, round, skinny, tall, short and any and everything else that you could imagine. I would wake up every summer morning and bug my mom to take me to the fair, and when this happened it was almost as exciting as presents on Christmas. It all began from the moment I woke up. She would be baking pancakes and the smell would be floating to my room, and I would know that this would be the day we would go because it was the only day out of the year that my mother actually made pancakes. I Scarfed down the pancakes so I wouldn’t waste a second. That extra second could have meant a cheaper deal on food, toys or whatever the lucky prize would be that year. When we finally were ready to go, my mother, sister, two brothers, and grandmother would all pile in our old Astro van and be on our way. The drive was the worst, as the anticipation for the day was building intensely, but when we finally got there the smells, sights, and ticket lines were all overwhelming.
Waiting for my turn to stick my stub ticket in the metal box I would push and shove to be the next to get in. When the mobs of people were released and we all rushed in I was immediately grabbed by the ear by my grandmother to join the family picture that the workers were attempting to orchestrate. The matching jackets and vintage five-dollar shades that my whole family was wearing made it easier to determine who was who as we all shot off in different directions. Tapping my foot on the ground I gave the photographer a dirty look and pushed her arm away as she tried to get me to stand next to my youngest brother. He was giving me the same dirty look and yelling at my mom to give him his three dollars so he could be on his way. We were told to hold until three and then given the okay to go as long as we met up with mom at the photo booth in the front in an hour. I looked over at my older brother Joshua and we ran together in the same direction.
            Sweating like a pig and eager to spend my money, I knew exactly where Joshua and I were going. We went to the closest funnel cake stand and asked for two dollars in quarters, but as I put my hands on the counter I was drawn back by the dirt and powdered sugar that flew through the air. Running once again, but this time with heavy pockets, we made our way to the side entrance, off to a place where we could be occupied for the next hour. The pink chair in the corner was the one I chose because it looked the cleanest, but also the best spot where I could people watch without anyone knowing. I slipped in the quarter and my feet were shaking on the foot massage chair. Every year I can remember the feeling of buzzing on my feet that I loved as I sat and watched everyone go by. Sitting, I thought to myself, why not play a game since we had so much time to kill and also had the best people watching spots in the whole fair. The game was to sit and wait for the perfect person to come by and if we thought they were perfect both my brother and I would scratch our nose. Then once we picked our victim we would both smile at them from cheek to cheek, the biggest smile we could muster and stare at them until they reacted. If they smiled back they would be known as sweet, but if they didn’t they would have to be called sour.
            Just as we decided to play that game, a heavy set older lady plopped down right next to me and started scrounging through her purse, most likely looking for a quarter to sooth her feet. This was the prime moment that our skills would go to work. From each side the lady had two kids staring at her smiling as big as they possibly could. She must have felt the presence of someone staring at her because she immediately looked up. It was then that we both made our decision on which option that lady would be. Her makeup was caked on, she had bright florescent pink lip-gloss and a white blouse that had multiple stains of a disgusting yellowish substance imbedded in the fabric. Her pants were tight, and her overflowing hippo-like physique was squishing out all over the bench. I was in shock to see the weathered look of her feet but the fact that two of her rotting green toenails were breathing the same air as me put my body into shock. The worst part was yet to come as my eyes wandered to her face again. The makeup had taken on a whole new effect as she shot me the most dirty, disgusted, disturbing face I had ever seen.
            All I could do was run. I ran as far and fast as my legs could carry me away from this horrifyingly scary woman. I only turned back once to check if Joshua had made it out of there safely and he too had run off in the other direction. I headed straight for the Ferris wheel and thought that it could be the only safe outlet where this lady would not go. I used the remaining money I had to buy the ticket and sat all alone for what seemed like forever, heart racing and praying that I would never encounter anyone that horrifying ever again. As soon as the opportunity arose, I ran straight back to the photo booth relieved more than I ever have been to see my family. The rest of my day was spent trying to get up enough guts to go in what my brothers called the wheel of death. It was one of those carnival rides that spun around in one giant circle while people would spin in smaller ones at the end. Basically it is a ride to make you sick and throw up all of the delicious fair treats that you had just spent 10 dollars feeding yourself. Just my type of ride. I begged my mother for an extra two dollars and we came to an agreement when I decided to do double time on my chores for next month.
            There is never a more exciting time for a kid than going on a carnival ride for the first time. When I first got in I was taken back by the smell of moldy who knows what and the after smell of the just cleaned up throw up that had been vomited the ride before I got on. Gross, but not as gross as what the seat looked like that I would have to sit in for the next four or five minutes. Before I knew it the ride had shot off to a shaky start, and the wheels were all cranking and whistling to get up to speed. I clenched my hands on the dirty handlebars and held on as tight as I could as I spun round and round. It didn’t take more than 30 seconds for me to want to get off and take my two dollars back. The girl in the box in front of me started screaming from the moment we started until we finally came to a complete stop. She was screaming for me and that was the exact way that I felt when the ride was over, like what the heck was I thinking. My brothers were surprised that I actually went on it and for that reason I was glad I had.
            The fair had taught me some valuable lessons that I continue to use today. For example: don’t go on carnival rides, and stay away from the vibrating feet chairs, because it attracts all sorts of people. Last summer was the first time that I had gone back to the fair since that summer and now it just doesn’t seem as big or fun as it was then. I still go and enjoy people watching but the thrill of entering gates and getting those three dollars have been long forgotten with my childhood.