State Fair '76 (6x3)

[Mike Handley]

With two rolls of quarters burning a hole in my jeans, I opted not to join my best friend and his date on any of the flashy rides. Paying for the privilege of puking up corndogs wasn’t my idea of fun, even if it afforded the potential of seeing a girl’s breast flop out of a dress.

I strolled alone down the beehive of a midway, intoxicated by the weird brew of smells. I passed tattooed men hawking two-bit peeks at freakish things in jars, giant and miniature horses with erections people pretended not to notice, a reptile-a-torium and a house of wax, which was filled with second-hand J.C. Penney mannequins made up to look like the famous and infamous: Abraham Lincoln and Lizzie Borden.

Beyond the neon rides and elaborately painted facades of the freak shows were the Budweiser tents and games of chance. With draft-filled plastic cups in one hand and stuffed animals the size of my little sister in the other, leather-clad bikers brayed as I passed, and I quickened my pace.

***

I was only 15, but I could pass for older. I started to go into one of the less-crowded beer tents, but I saw a couple of my parents’ friends and reversed course.

Into the testosterone haze I strolled, where dads and boyfriends were rolling up their sleeves and spending fortunes trying to win giant blue sharks (“JAWS” had hit the big screen the previous year) and Panda bears for the girls in their lives.

I eventually came across one put-a-quarter-on-a-colored-square game -- in which someone tosses a ball that has to land on a color -- that interested me. For the next two hours, I giddily parlayed half my quarters into two cartons of cigarettes I could’ve easily bought over any counter for the same price.

Twenty-five cents on the right color was worth a pack of unfiltered Chesterfields or Picayunes; a pack won two; two won five; and five was worth a carton of choice: Winstons, Marlboros and the like.

***

Later that night, the three of us went to the cinema across the street. My mouthfuls of popcorn couldn’t mask the disgusting smacking sounds of my friend and his girl kissing.

A half-hour into the flick, I began noticing things darting across the aisle. Rats!

I thought it was cool and gleefully pointed this out to my sore-lipped companions. And for the rest of the movie, the kissing ceased, the girl preoccupied with keeping her feet moving, and my friend glowering more at me than the screen.

[Mike Handley]

Thanks, everyone. It was a fun write, and I'm glad y'all enjoyed it.

@Toby: Methinks the snippets are way better than the whole.

@Maiden: No mam.

[Kristine_ES]

we were side by side with you, the whole way. 

if you had to do the state fair today, would you do anything different?  like ride the puke-machines and ...?

[Jamie Hogan]

Love details like the beer attempt thwarted by the parents' friends. It's stuff like that that puts me back in those twitchy-eyed days of 15 years old, always into something I shouldn't have been, always having to be on the lookout for people who would tell my folks. And thinking rats are cool is such a teenage guy thing. The way you write youth is exactly the way I want to read it.

[Bill Floyd]

We still go to the State Fair here every few years.  I love the pandemonium of sights and smells, and all those redneck kids who are me minus a couple (or three) decades.  Your buddy got what he deserved for having you as a wingman--three's a crowd.  

[Sandra Davies]

It's a lot harder than you make it appear here to evoke those youthful sensations, for this is what you have done here - they are not at all faded memories.

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

This takes me back, too.  I remember Coney Island in the old days of my fifteenth year and the scary fortune teller with warts on her nose.  This was really good.  Are you planning a longer story about this?

[Teresa]

This is what you do best, take us back to the early part of your human journey.  And I have to mention something odd that struck me as I was reading; it was a phrase, incredibly simple, but so confident it had a lot of punch:  "...-- that interested me".  I don't know why I liked that so much unless it was just the confidence.  Or maybe because it's something Augusten Burroughs would write...;-)  Faved.

[Robert Crisman]

What Gita said about 18 sentences and a thousand images--you took us right down the midway! I love the line, "stuffed animals the size of my little sister..." Great work, Mike, though I have to say that, regardless of the fact that his ire should have been focused on the rats, I really can't blame your friend for giving you the stinkeye. After all, if you can't do anything about the source of the problem, kill the damn messenger, right? 

[Angela]

Your recollections flow so smoothly, I feel like I am dreaming your stories.  The images and situations are easy for me to identify with, and I enjoy all the little mishaps and quirks that I rely on you to relate in your work.  This post is especially nice, since you are less forced into a length constraint by the use of a 3x6.  Well put together and very engaging eighteen.

[Edward Dean]

Neat well rounded reflective piece Mike.

We always went to the State Fair with two rolls of pennies in our pockets and they certainly weren't for spending. Trying to pick up someones girlfriend, sister or cousin was always a dangerous sport:)