Alright, well I went to two local fairs a few weeks ago, and never got to post all the pictures I intended to. I've been trying to decide how in the world to describe my first county fair without making it seem horribly country and redneck, but I've just given up. It was horribly country and redneck, no matter how you look at it. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind - it was just a different experience for me. A brief example....
After taking some man's picture, I asked him what his name was. The first name - James - I didn't have too much trouble with, but the last name was a different story.
"And your last name, please?" I said.
"Heel," said James.
"Oh, heel, like the part of my foot," I said, scribbling on my notepad.
"No, it's Heel."
"Uhhh, well how do you spell it?" I asked, puzzled.
At this point we didn't really know what to say to each other, so I just said thanks and left as quickly as possible. How do you apologize for speaking English and yet completely misunderstanding a fellow American? I'm just glad his first name wasn't Will, because I'd have written "wheel".
Anyway, after shooting a few photos, I noticed my stomach growling at me a bit, and went to find some food. There were a few funnel cake and cotton candy booths, but nothing screamed meat like the fried chicken building. Okay, well it seemed like a building at least, compared to the other small kiosks. Fried chicken and french fries.... yummm.... Now I grew up Southern Baptist, and there's something to be said about Baptists and fried chicken on Sundays. It never fails - if a Baptist is having a church luncheon, I guarantee you they're serving fried chicken. The point of all this is, I tend to like fried chicken and tend to blame it on being Baptist. So I waited for my chicken, and when the man serving handed me the plate, he said,
"There you go, sugar. We gave you an extra piece of chicken because you looked hungry."
Excuse me? Now I could bet my camera on the fact that they didn't give the fat guy in line behind me one less piece of chicken because he looked full. Why is it that people feel personally responsible for fattening me up just because I'm a little on the slender side? People don't think twice before making remarks about my weight (or lack thereof) but I know they aren't commenting on overweight people to their faces. So what makes them think they can do it to me? I've been blessed with good skinny genes, and sometimes find it a bit offensive when people snidely point it out to me. Alright, that's my gripe for the day. I'll let it go now.
Here are some of the pictures from the fair.