Today I'm going to play hooky. Well, I did work from 5:30 this morning until 10:00am. but now, I'm in line for the ferris wheel in my mind. Which always reminds me of the fact that the guys who have the nerve to come on to me are usually crack addicts sitting on the sidewalk in San Fran or the carnies. I'm serious. I'm told I'm intimidating, I'm not sure why. I'm very sweet. Perhaps because I like to step out in style? Or that I'm an extrovert?
Anyway, as a dental hygienist, it was always tough to carry on a conversation with the carnie ride operators because it was difficult not to gawk when they opened their mouths to say, "Hey baby, I'll give you a real ride." Wink.
Now, in reality, you can't get me on any ride. I get dizzy just making the decision to go to a carnival. I hate the round and round of, let's say, a merry-go-round and the stomach plunge on an up and down ride. But when a carnie offers you a real ride, it's better to climb into the ferris wheel chair rather than hang around. Simply saying "I only date crack addicts," used to be sufficient. But now, the reply I get from the carnie is, "I smoke crack, baby." I see those rotten teeth and jump into the chair.
Once, it was me and a friend on the ferris wheel. The carnie stops us at the top. They like to do that. At first, I'm thinking, wow what a gorgeous view...that thought lasts maybe 1/32nd of a second. And then the horror that we have to go back down, hits me--the thought of it sucks the breath out of me. I'm ready to panic and start screaming for a ladder. Meanwhile, while my not-so-good friend rocks the chair so we're swing like a couple of over-ripe apples.
A carnival used to come to a shopping center near my house when I was growing up. Rides, junk food...This particular outfit had a trailer that when you went in, which was scary in itself-- you had the unique opportunity to view a two-headed baby embryo in a jar. Stuff like that. We loved/hated that trailer--I got dizzy standing in line for the two-headed baby, as well.
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