It's a Given - the Fair Edition

I don't care where you live, there's some type of fair that comes to town once a year.  And like lemmings over the cliff, you go every year, wondering half way through creating the memory, why you do it.  Because if you ever decide to go to the fair, there's quite a few givens.



Your hands will feel sticky the minute your fair admission ticket leaves your hand.
They will feel sticky the entire time you are at the fair.
Then you will touch something (the handle of a ride, the doorknob of the restroom, the counter of the Pig Butt on a Stick vendor) and encounter something wet.
Now they are wet AND sticky.

At this moment, something on your body will itch.
Most likely eye, making you wonder about pink eye.
Or hair, making you freak about lice.
or skin making you worry about leprosy.

I think the fair sends out smoke signals when it comes to town because
there's a lot of people here I swear I never saw before
that shouldn't be wearing that whatever

they think is covering up their whatever
because it is not working.

Who are these people?
Many of them are breeding more fair goers of the future, getting them hooked on the candy apples, the cotton candy and the kettle corn.
Do they not understand that walking around the fair with a gigantic turkey leg hanging from your mouth is NOT sexy?
Honestly, there are a few that could safely enter the "Strange Freaks" show of the fair and be detained because they thought they were part of the show.
Not to mention the employees of the fair, I hope someone is doing background checks on these people because if you opened the dictionary to serial killer, a few pictures may look familiar.

So I am not sure what scared me more:
Everything you touch at the fair is sticky.
The unknown substance on the wire cage of the ride you're getting ready to get on.
The smell of sweat in another ride as the door closes and you realize you have no point of the horizon as it starts going around.
How easily a fresh made doughnut can disappear - after a pretzel, a box of popcorn, a funnel cake, two large sweet teas.
And after all that food you're still eyeing the fried Oreos, thinking, "Maybe?"
That you have to tip the restroom lady even if the surfaces in the restroom are STICKY?
And girlfriend, you're JUICY shirt, obviously two sizes too small with the jeggings is fodder for the Haunted House which was pretty lame and needed sprucing up anyway.

As we walk out of the fair, we all sigh at the new memory, move a little bit of extra fat around and grab for the hand sanitizer as we get in the car.

Ahhh, off the hook for another year.  Remember, nothing good happens at the Fair.