My Fair Lady

We pull up to a crowded parking lot stretched half a mile wide. Cars litter the streets, while near by houses make $5 per car they allow to park in their driveway. An unappetizing smell hits us first as we pass the livestock. Let's pretend it isn't there, shall we? We sprint past the cows and the building of oddities and souvenirs to the next layer of the hot, crowded county fair lasagna. Sketchy vendors pedal tacky jewelry, knives, and custom leather belts. A glimmer catches my eye of a shiny something I want to touch, but the grumble in my stomach keeps me on track.

It's time to pass the gauntlet of games that begs to draw us in. To the left a man calls out "HIT ALL FIVE, WIN A PRIZE!" On the left a woman glares into our souls to pressure us to play. This long path of dings and bells serves only to distract us. We venture through.

The horrifying screams get louder as we reach the rides. Combinations of joy and fear infiltrate our ears. With gusto, we charge through the crowds, avoiding spilled drinks, sweaty lines of people, and shouting kids. Slowly, delightful smells wisp past our noses. Sweet deep-fried, oil saturated, overpriced, hot crunchy yummy food awaits us.

There it is! It's beautiful! It was finally quiet. Truck after truck of any food you could ever want lines the grass. The options are overwhelming! Should we get traditional corn dogs or something a little more exotic? Lemonade, ice cream, Frito chili pies? Nachos, pizza, deep-fried something on a stick! Our eyes lock in on the grand poo bah of the fair; Funnel Cakes!

One by one we approach each food truck to collect our feast. By the time we sit down the array of food is so diverse it could be featured on the front page of a university pamphlet. C'est la vie my friend. Completely unburdened by guilt, we indulge in every wonderful bite.

First on the docket is a staple of fair food, the turkey leg! The outside is browned just right and the inside is a burst of juicy flavor. It's nearly too hot to eat but we don't care. We channel our primal selves and dig in with careless disregard for mess or manors. Salty nachos complement the savory meat and with a perfect kick from the jalapeño, we are in heaven. We could stop here and be satiated, but we won't. Our greedy guts know what's next.

Deep. Fried. Snickers. On. A. Stick. Say it slow and easy. Let the words sit on your tongue. We bite in. Holy moley, that is good! Gooey chocolate oozes out. The sweet, crispy outside melts down in our mouths. Ugh man this is fantastic. Joyful groans escape us. The carb high is setting in. No one can touch us right now.

Glowing lights glimmer off the caramel coating of an apple on a stick. As the sun sets, our sweating drinks glisten just right. Purple and orange skies saturate our little concrete table making it feel more like the grand hall of a king. No one is talking. No sounds can be heard. Only the utter euphoria of all of our favorite fair foods.

To wash the taste of sweets off of our tongues, we nibble on some salty buttered popcorn. This serves to prime our mouths for the grand finale... the funnel cakes.

CRUNCH! Our forks break the impeccable golden surface. Powdered sugar floats wistfully in the wind. The sweet smell infiltrates our noses in a way only funnel cakes can do. With each bite, we are floating higher and higher out of reality and into a world where nothing else exists. Every last bite without exception is lapped up with vigor. Feeling fully satisfied, we stand, dust ourselves off, clean up our mess, and waddle home.