Why The County Fair Sucks A Little

Off work a little early today, and decided to do something spontaneous. A customer was telling me about a street fair taking place in our town. She said there were some games, rides, and some food vendors. Hm. That actually sounded like fun. But then she told me the Marion County Fair was going on right now, too.

That means fair food, right? That seems way better! So T and I decided to go to the fair.

I started off with corn on the cob, as per usual. (Sorry. I forgot to take a picture of this before I started.) It's sprinkled with a little cayenne pepper. Actually, probably too much cayenne. I had to get a Coke, too. This was the only corn vendor at the County Fair. There are usually at least 3 or 4 at the State Fair. I was disappointed because this corn was boiled, not grilled. It was really not fair corn. I mean, seriously. I can boil corn at home. (Well, I can grill it too, but that's not the point.)

Disappointed, but not deterred, I decided to get a corn dog. Again, I forgot to take the picture first. Sorry. I was hungry and polished this thing off pretty quickly. It was actually pretty good. Crisp on the outside, cakey on the inside. I would've had another, but they were charging $6 for these things. Ridiculous! I would've passed on this, but I had already ordered and was too embarassed to say "Six dollars? Are you crazy? What? Are they made of gold or something?!" "never mind."

There were also some overpriced twisty chips there, too. But I love twisty chips. So we got an order. Look how deep brown those are. Those are all crispy, right? Wrong. Some of them are crispy. Many of them are soggy. All of them are greasy. So, so greasy. And the cheese... Not nacho cheese. Some kind of liquid cheese-like substance. And so much grease.

I couldn't finish them.

We took the opportunity to stroll over to the arts and crafts building so I could look at the knitting entries. But, as this was the last day of the fair, all of the exhibits had been taken down by noon. Likewise, all the animals were gone. There were just two little girls, about twelve years old, barefoot and sitting on a bench outside. They asked me "Y'all lookin' for the exhibits? They ain't here. They's all gone 'bout noon."

Now, let me say this is Indianapolis in 2014. Not the backwoods hollers of 1820s Appalachia. And these girls were very likely in middle school. I wanted to correct their grammar. And tell them to put on some shoes before they stepped on something. But I just thanked them.

With nothing else to do, we decided to leave. I only stopped for one thing on the way out.