Last weekend, a group of us went to the fair. It was my first time ever going (as far as I can remember anyway). It was not a good experience for me.

Let me just tell you ONE of the things that happened that just made my whole fair day not so fair. Note that I am already in a horrible mood by the time this event happens. Jeremy had already cussed at the carnie running the rollercoaster ride because we were BOTH supposed to fit in this tiny bucket seat – and our butts are so big that the divider was hurting his thigh…and the ride was $5 a piece

seriously!?!? We should be able to be comfortable at that kinda price.

Back to the story – we are mad, and I really wanted a stuffed animal – but you have to win one. And most of the prizes are for squirting, shooting or nailing something. And I am good at none of those. So the group of us are standing there to decide what to do next and we hear a voice.

“Three dollars – three dollars, let me guess your weight within three pounds and win a prize!”

I could do this one. And nobody is around but my friends. So I cough up the three bones and tell him to have at it. But he continues to announce what is going on! A crowd forms. A big crowd. He strolls around me and guesses. A decent guess. I’ll take it. And the moment he let the words escape his mouth, I knew that stuffed monkey was mine.

“One hundred thirty pounds. Not a pound more. Not a pound less.”

He coulda omitted that last part.

So I said “nope, you are way under.”

“Hop on the scale.”

SERIOUSLY?!?! So I get on. There is a surge forward from the crowd followed by a collective gasp. When the scale passed 15 lbs over his guess, I jumped off. It was humilating.

The guy who guessed then says “WOW girl, you must had eaten a ton of funnel cakes tonight! You better lay off em!”

I heard whispers of “do you see that girl? – she weighs alot!” and “that guy guessed her weight WAY under” and “well she does have a ghetto booty”.

But on the up side I did get a monkey. His name is F.C.

It stands for funnel cake.