Sometimes I go do something, and take a whole bunch of pictures, and somehow never get around to writing anything about it. I realized the other day that this happened when Kristin and I went to the Tennessee Valley Fair together. In 2010.
My whole goal in going to the fair wasn't to go on rides, or play games, or even to eat fried things on sticks (although that last part eventually happened). Instead, I just wanted to take some photos of shiny lights and colorful midways.
Especially this one, which was the picture in my head that I wanted to take when I decided that I wanted to go to the fair:
I don't remember if Kristin even wanted to go to the fair, but I didn't want to drive, so I somehow convinced her to go and to drive. I might have offered to buy her ticket, which happens sometimes when Kristin doesn't want to do things I do, but it's entirely possible that she bought her own ticket and was excited to go. It's been two years, and I can't really remember.
I do remember that we were mistaken for a couple. Kristin and I tend to bicker and snap at each other a little, because we are both often cranky, especially in the presence of crowds. We were having some snippy discussion in line while waiting to get tickets, and this lady turned around with a big smile and said, "Awwwww, is this your first fair together?"
"Yes?" I answered. And, so far, our last fair together, although that's not been a deliberate choice. We just haven't felt like going to the fair again.
"My boyfriend just hates doing stuff like this!" she continued. "I just have to drag him out of the house."
I was about to explain that, "Oh, we're not dating," (I wasn't going to go straight into "because I'm gay" because we were out in the public at night in Tennessee, and that's not always a wise choice), but Kristin giggled, wrapped her arms around my arm, smiled sweetly, and said, "I have the same problem."
"Oh, that's so sweet!" random lady continued, while I thought about maybe pushing Kristin under the carousel, just to watch her die.
"Isn't it?" Kristin said, smiling at me with beatific adoration. I had been kind of a cranky bitch earlier about something or other, and this, clearly, was my payback.
"Do you want me to take your picture together?" random lady asked.
"NO," I answered. Random lady somehow chose not to interpret this as hostile, and directed all of her attention to Kristin, who was still hanging onto my arm with both hands.
"My boyfriend hates having his picture taken, too!" and then they both giggled, united in their shared burden of non-photogenic boyfriends. "You know, I have a coupon for some money off the tickets. Let me get it for you."
"Oh, thank you," Kristin cooed.
"Yeah, thanks," I added, doing my best not to grumble. It was a nice discount, so I guess I should have been more thankful.
Anyway, we finally got inside and wandered around for a while, staring at things and stopping a lot so that I could take random photos:
and right when we started to get tired and hungry, we saw it:
The Fried Cheese Emporium.
What else would you eat at the fair, really? You don't come to the fair for apples or a salad or all organic tofu nuggets. No. You come to the fair for fried things on sticks, and the fair is happy to provide:
Maybe you can't tell from the size of the cheese log compared to the salt shaker, but that was a massive hunk of fried cheese. I'm not sure what the recommended daily allowance of fried cheese is per day, but I bet that thing exceeds it. It was so huge that I had trouble eating it:
But I gave it my best attempt.
And then when I got home I was too tired to blog about the experience, probably because my body was falling into some sort of coma.
A delicious, cheesy coma.
Full of cheese.