It may come as a total shock, but I have been doing other things besides trying to get my Huckleberry Prairie blog up and running. I know. It is Shocking. For instance, Jon and I went to the Rodeo... a BBQ cook-off competition and a carnival... all in one day! Not to mention I rode the public bus for the first time in my life! (I mean the REAL bus... not a trolley or tour bus).
One thing that is really unfortunate when you go out with just one other person...is the fact that you will never get really good pictures...no candid shots... no action shots. It is always just Jon and me going out... and there are only so many "stretch out your arm and take a pic of the two of us" kind of pictures that you can take. You can never see the background and they all look the same. Booo. It doesn't stop us from at least trying though... so give us some credit, eh?
I promise I brushed my hair although the above picture is tying to tell you another tale. Let me explain. We live in the windiest region in the universe. There is never a moment without wind... and I'm not just talking a gentle breeze that would work in your favor like the Finesse Shampoo commercial ... I'm talking constant gusts. What does one even do to control their hair in this type of environment? I may have to resort to the 3rd grade french braid.
Here is Jon. Not a care in the world. Happy to be at the Carnival. Happy that the wind doesn't mock his hair.
Oh! What do you know... a couple more "hold out your arm and take a pic of yourself" pictures. These aren't just any pictures, however; these are celebratory pictures. For we looked death straight in the face and escaped! No. I'm not talking about the rides that operate with a few missing nuts and bolts here and there. That is just living on the edge. I'm talking about escaping the wrath of a very angry carnie.
So, here's what happened. We were jubilantly strolling by the game booths, admiring the lights, smells of cotton candy and kettle corn... when out of nowhere we get a "Pssst". You know, the half whistle, half hiss to get your attention. Mr. Carnie operating the "throw the ball into a Rubbermaid tub (literally, a Rubbermaid tub) and win this 4 inch neon snake with tiger stripes" game booth, wanted to tell us something! Scared, but more scared not to obey his whistle, we make our way over there. He leans in... looks around, makes sure the coast is clear...and then gives us information we never asked to hear. We now know things that can't be erased from our minds... he revealed TOP SECRET Carnie information to us!
"Want to know how to always win the Rubbermade bin game? I'll show you." So he does.
"Oh ok, cool" we say. "Thanks".
I observe the amount of tear drops that he has tattooed to the corner of his eye.
I also observe the well-placed, well-thought out spider web tattoo in the corner of his other eye.
We had no idea that he was luring us into an unspoken transaction. He tells us a secret we never asked to hear... and, in exchange we play his stupid game and win the tiger snake.
"But we don't have any tokens," we reply.
No words...just a filthy finger pointing over our shoulder. We turn around to see a token machine conveniently positioned in front of his booth.
"No thanks, but thanks for showing us how to win."
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Not the right thing to say to a man who has obviously 1) just escaped prison 2) is attracted to the carnie lifestyle and 3) has earned every single tear drop on his face.
Needless to say, the judge-ordered anger management program served him no justice... as he began to murmur and mutter things that, at the very least, could merit a restraining order.
Ok, ok. He didn't threaten us. But he was angry and frustrated and felt entirely betrayed. We betrayed his trust, took advantage of his carnie knowledge, didn't play by the rules of the unspoken transaction... and wasted 15 seconds of his life that he will never get back. And that was a tall list of accusations that I was terrified we would have to pay the consequences for. So we did the only thing we knew to do... walked away and walked away quickly. My only goal was to get out of the reach of his hand so he could automatically rule out shanking us. And by the time he reached for his carnie revolver, lead pipe, candle stick, rope or whatever other weapon he had behind that booth...we would be out range to get an accurate shot.
So I watch too much Forensic Files and have a vivid interpretation of events. At least we were able to document the fact that we cheated death....by carnie.
So back aboard the finest public transportation that Corpus Christi has to offer. Yes, I took a picture of the bus in case I had to prove that I was on board. haha AND... to mark my first public bus ride. I remember as a child... maybe 11 or 12... my friend Angela and I wanted to take the public bus to go to the movies...but mostly just to ride the bus. I couldn't fathom the big, fat NO that I got from my mom when I asked if I could go. Unbelievable... does she just want to take ALL my fun away from me? Doesn't she understand that I will be perfectly safe on board the public bus?? Umm...yeah. I didn't realize how rough a bus station could be. Thanks mom. haha