Author: ulysses Published: 8/18/2006 story views: 8739
- Yahoo MyWeb
Bright lights and frenzied sounds surrounded me as I handed my $3.50 to the man behind the counter. In return, I received a huge mound of pink cotton candy swirled around a thin wooden stick. I walked away from the concession stand to explore the barrage of sensory delights, taking occasional bites from the cotton candy that melted onto my tongue the very second that contact was made. The sugary sweet snack added to my heightened senses. It was the opening night of the state fair, and I planned to take full advantage of all of the flashy entertainment offered.
I ambled around the fair with my cotton candy in hand, using my tickets to see the random freak show installations along the trail. Most of them involved Paleozoic creatures that had been found hidden deep in the jungles of the Amazon and Congo. These supposed prehistoric creatures didn’t seem to be any different from your everyday lizard or large snake, but I was willing to suspend reality for a while and thoroughly enjoy myself. Fairs, carnivals, and circuses have fascinated me since I was a child. I’ve never grown tired of them, despite the high number of them that I’ve attended and my increasing age.
I enjoy anything that makes me feel youthful once again. Once I hit my mid-twenties, I started to feel much older. The state fair, then, was a good way for me to recapture a sense of vivacity, of being young, of experiencing things from a naïve perspective once again. I really needed to feel that way, too, because my boyfriend left me only a week ago. There’s nothing like a bad breakup and tumultuous relationship to make you feel your age.
After I had seen all of the freakish exhibitions, including a man covered in tattoos with a brick permanently implanted in his chest, I headed towards the funhouse. As I made my way through the hall of mirrors, I noticed a straight couple discreetly making out in a corner. They probably didn’t notice, but their reflection appeared on a number of distorted mirrors in the room, much to the amusement of some young kids that were also there.
I giggled as I stared at myself in the funhouse mirrors. Some of them really depicted how I felt about my body, such as the one where your body is crushed like a soda can, or the one where it appears that you’re much fatter. I found a normal one and stared at myself—dark brown hair, nice frame that was slightly getting pudgier, well dressed. I still had youthful looks, and being at the fair made me feel youthful inside, too. The next few mirrors I especially liked because they expanded the mid-section of my body, and my bulge looked huge and menacing in them. It turned me on to see it, especially since my ex-boyfriend and I hadn’t had sex for a month before the break-up. I noticed that I started to get a semi-erect, so I stopped staring and left the funhouse.
After the funhouse, I went up to one of those booths where you throw darts at balloons filled with water. I managed to hit all of the balloons. The guy running the booth gave me a queer look, and a smile flashed from beneath the mustache on his face.
“You’re pretty good at that,” he said. “You