English College Writing
Going to the carnival is something almost every kid has experienced. It is a place to enjoy rides, play games, and eat yummy food. However, with becoming an adult, almost all things change. The carnival is no exception.
I was about seven years old when my parents surprised my brother and me by taking us to the carnival. The place was lit up better than the Christmas parade. The rides looked like something you would see out of a fairytale movie. The first ride we went on was a small rollercoaster. I loved how it felt like I was on a little train, chugging up steep hills, and then losing control on its way down. My all-time favorite ride ended up being the Tilt-A-Whirl. You sat in oversized chairs, which all rotated in a large circle. On top of that, you had your own steering wheel to spin yourself in even more tummy-turning circles. It was amazing. There were also bumper cars, which gave me a chance to continually smash into my brother without any repercussions.
With lost voices from screaming, and stomachs that were still left behind on the rides, we decided it was a good time to go play some games. My favorite game was the one in which you threw a ball and if it landed into the cup with a goldfish, you got to keep it as your prize. Needless to say, by the end of the night I had enough fish to set up a whole aquarium. They also had a variety of other games which included a dart toss, a shooting game, and a ring toss. I wasn’t very good at any of those games, so I stuck to winning fish. It didn’t take long before we ran out of tickets and with the night getting late we decided to walk down to the food vendors.
On our way to the food, I could not help but stare at the Carnies. They were so fasinating to watch and came in all different sizes and shapes. Some were missing teeth and others had pounds of make-up on their face. I wanted to be just like them. The outfits they wore were so colorful and bright. They were embellished with sequins and plastic jewels that gave them some extra pizzazz. They lit up just as much as the rides. All I could think about while watching these individuals is how exciting their life must be. They traveled around, stayed up late, and got to eat the delicious fair food whenever they wanted. I then started to think up an escape plan. I planned to hide away on one of their trailers and become a part of the carnival life. After minutes of putting together different scenarios, the corndog booth came to view, and I instantly forgot what I was planning.
The rides and games had been fun and kept us busy, but the food vendors were my absolute favorite. First we got corndogs, dipped in rich batter and then fried in grease to give it some extra yummy flavor. For dessert we got doughnuts coated with sugar and cinnamon and a side of ice-cream. I had eaten so much I felt like I would explode at any moment. I imaged the button from my pants popping off and hitting my brother in the face, and tried my hardest to make that happed by puffing out my stomach. Before we left we had to make one more stop at the cotton candy vendor. I loved cotton candy; it was like playing with little pink and blue clouds. The clouds just melted as soon as they touched your tongue and you were left with the sweetest, most heavenly taste know to the carnival world. It was a perfect ending to the night. I left feeling happy, carefree, and high on sugar.
Seventeen years down the road, the traveling carnival was back in town and my friend invited me to check it out. It had been a long time since I had been to one so I was super excited. We first went to check out the rides. They seemed different. The colors and lights no longer stood out like they did before. What did stand out was the amount of rust and the fact that some bolts were missing. I was worried that the Tilt-A-Whirl was going to break off and send us spinning across the park. I couldn’t even enjoy using the steering wheel to spin us in dizzy circles; instead I just sat there hanging on for dear life. The roller coaster wasn’t in much better shape. It was boring, and it went in one little circle occasionally going over a small bump. To make things worse, the lines were so long for the bumper cars we decided to skip them. I would have to find something else to take out my growing irritation on. We decided to go find some games to play. I was hoping that popping some balloons would make me feel better and get me in the carnival spirit again.
The games all seemed so tacky. The tickets were overpriced and the prizes were nothing I would be interested in winning. I did feel bad for the gold fish in the little jars. To think that by the next day, over half of them would be dead; most likely from little kids shaking the crap out of them. The rest would be flushed down the toilet to meet certain doom. I was almost tempted to play the game and win as many as I could to try to save them. I then realized it would require that I buy another aquarium, which I didn’t have the money for. We then decided to go grab a bite to eat, and I hoped at least the food would still be the same.
As we made our way to the food vendors I observed the Carnies I once admired. The clothing they wore looked like they raided a rummage sale, and did not seem nearly as colorful and spectacular as I remembered. Most of them seemed grumpy and rude. A few of them did flash toothless smiles at us as we passed. I remember when I used to think that was so cool, but at the time I had also been missing some teeth. I wanted so badly to travel with the Carnies, but now it seemed dreadful. Staying up late, and only having crappy, greasy food to eat, sounded like a one-way ticket to a heart attack. I wondered when the last time was that any of them had seen a vegetable that wasn’t fried in grease.
To my amazement, the food smelled and looked just as yummy as before. Since my parents weren’t along to pay for my meals, I was only able to afford to eat at one vendor. The food at the carnival was expensive and I wondered how my parents could afford to take my brother and me there, and not end up broke afterwards. I ended up deciding on the mini-doughnuts covered in sugar and cinnamon. They tasted as good as I remembered, but with each doughnut I felt my jeans grow a little tighter. By the time I was halfway through the bag, the buttons on my jeans felt like they were going to pop off and I suddenly felt like a parade float. At one time I would have loved to see the button explode off and hit someone in the face, but now, I did everything I could to suck my stomach in. I had no choice but to give the rest of the doughnuts to my friend. I then bought a six dollar bottle of water to wash down the regrets and disappointments of the night. I didn’t even have enough money left over to enjoy some fresh cotton candy; I would have to wait for another time.
I left the fair that night with an empty bank account and broken spirits. I wondered if it was me who changed or the quality of the carnival. The carnival used to be a place that seemed so magical to me and I would have given anything to be a part of it. Today I just see it as money trap, full of dangerous, rusty rides. I wish I could see this place through the eyes of a child again; a magical kingdom full of possibilities.