I normally can’t stand fat people, children, or crowds of any sort. However, Jon managed to score two free tickets to the NC State Fair this year, and with this beautiful weather, it would have been stupid to pass up the opportunity to go outside and make fun of people. Plus-DEEP FRIED FOOD. I don’t care how much of a stereotypical American it makes me, I love deep fried food. I’d eat anything that has been deep fried. I’d eat you if you were deep fried.
I was a little disappointed not to see any super weird stuff. Maybe I’ve been reading about Thailand too much, but everything seemed pretty tame. Deep fried brownie? Big deal. However, there is no universe in which I would turn down mac & cheese. Especially deep fried.
They were pretty good….not quite $6 good…but I guess you pay for the atmosphere, right? And as for the atmosphere….I want you to envision a Wal-Mart, far out in the countryside, somewhere below the Mason-Dixon. Imagine all those fat people moving really slowly, and wearing jogging suits. Riding electric wheel chairs just so they don’t have to walk. Refusing to get out of your way. Now imagine that Wal-Mart outside, with more food, and more weird shit to do. You’ve got yourself the NC State Fair.
Thanks for posing for the picture, lady, but now can you get the fuck out of the way?
This was my target. I’ve only shot a gun before once, and I wasn’t aiming at anything besides trees in general. But I wasn’t really nervous, because obviously no one would expect a girl to hit a target anyway. This isn’t the Hunger Games.
I had to aim for the “4” sign, about 20 feet away. Or 40? I honestly have no idea, I can’t measure distances whatsoever.
But check out this situation. I literally just wandered up, gave them a few bucks, and they gave me a gun on a chain. Seriously. No psych test. No murder check. Just $7, and they give you a shot gun and a shell. It’s insane, and kind of awesome. But mostly insane.
As you can see, my boyfriend’s aim is much better than mine. We still didn’t win the turkey-but what the hell am I supposed to do with a whole turkey, anyway? Besides kill it and cook it and eat it, I guess.
I don’t know what the deal is with corn in this state, but this sort of shit was everywhere. I thought sweet potatoes were our thing? Oh, no, wait-
Goodness grows here. Well that clears that up.
Also I have no idea what this is. Or why. But I like it.
Bonjour monsieur tube de l’homme! I didn’t know wacky inflatable arm tube men came in French. Or, Belgian, I guess, according to the “Brussels crepes” signs.
I said “Do you want to go in?” Jon said “Nah, all those bears are on valium anyway,” and the ticket guy busted out laughing.
The turkey area (chicken tent? bird arena? I don’t know) was my favorite part. Especially since I had no idea that turkeys are being judged on their age and gender. But if I have to go through it, so should they.
I don’t know a lot about turkey mating (and don’t believe anyone who tells you I do BENITO IS A LIAR), but I think these guys were flirting pretty hardcore. Turkeys have no shame these days.
In the excitement that ensued when I found out that roosters have official names, I shouted “Henry!” which apparently caused people to stare, according to my boyfriend, who hates it when I cause people to stare.
I was really excited about these guys, too, because they look the same as the roosters I saw fighting in Panama. Turns out Jon doesn’t like it when I talk loudly in public about Latino culture (and whether or not cockfights are ethical and how little I care anyway, because they’re awesome) anymore than when I shout the bird’s names, because after that he made me leave the bird arena.
All in all the fair was pretty okay. I certainly wouldn’t pay to go in, but once you get over the rampant obesity and rudeness and general awfulness, it’s kind of fun. The animals are cool, at least.
PS-WHY ISN’T THERE A WHEELCHAIR LANE? Come on!