So I’m going ride to ride. First ride I’m waiting for, a rather attractive 30 something man starts talking to me. I explain that I was on my way to the movies and that is why I am dressed as I am. He laughs and admits he was wondering. We chat about the giant slide, the pros and cons of the inflatables versus the old standard fiberglass and potato sack, while we wait to get on the spinney ride we are in line for. Then he asks me about the movie and who I was meeting.
“No one. I was taking myself on a date night to see Date Night, “I explain.
“Alone?” he queries.
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see the movie.”
He gives me a slightly confused look and then gathers up his kids, whom I didn’t realize he was waiting for. I thought he was getting on the ride. Now, I will admit, I am always taken a little off guard when I am questioned about why I spend time alone. I guess if you are not involved with someone, you are just supposed to sit home alone and pine. It is disappointing to constantly be reminded that the world does not accept the absence of coupling.
But I decide that I will not be disheartened. I am on an adventure and I am having fun. I am also making an impression because I return to my first ride and the attendant says, “you riding again?” The evening proceeds like this, “you again?” “you riding again?” “back for another?” I even end up with guests on the Tiltiwhirl. Two little girls, who later asked for my tickets, but I told them no. I wanted to ride the Zipper-it’s a ride-get your mind out of the gutter. But it was for couple riders only. Damn. Again with the discrimination against singles. So I convince the goldfish guy to ride with me…twice!
It’s time for me to head out, and as I start to leave, feeling rejuvenated by my spontaneous adventure and my life-of-the party, bell-of-the-ball status, I hear a voice from beside me. “So where are we going?” I turn to discover the source of the inquiry only to find that I am standing in front of the Break a Plate game booth and the voice is coming from the Carney.
“I’m sorry. Were you addressing me?” I ask.
He repeats, “Where are we going?”
I am now entirely confused. And, intrigued by his persistence, I question him as to what he wants. He tells me he finds me interesting and he sees no ring on my finger so… I stop him in his tracks and explain my status, in as brief but clear a term as I can muster without going into the details. He tells me that the fact that I am married is a shame, but that he would still like to get together. So, I figure, why not? He will be leaving with the carnival. So I give him my number. I leave the carnival with my heart racing and my cheeks flushed. I just got picked up by a Carney in my leopard print heels. It was the best movie I never saw.
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