“Hey there, little ladies.”
I cringe. Without turning, I know exactly what kind of guy that voice belongs to. Sure enough, there’s an overweight man in huge overalls chewing on a piece of straw behind me. He’s so sunburned that he looks like a reddened lobster. “It’s not right for a couple girls to be here all alone,” he says with a smirk. “Surely you’d like some company.”
A guy with a similar attitude takes a seat next to Leslie.
“We’re here now, don’t you worry. You two are right pretty for this part of town.”
Leslie shoots me a look. It’s her way of asking if I’m interested. Of course not. I shake my head vehemently and Leslie laughs.
“We’re alright, guys. Move along.”
They try to change her mind, but Leslie stays strong. She’s hard to push around, and I appreciate that about her. Soon enough, they leave, and Leslie and I giggle.
“It’s always the same!” I sigh. “You’d think after twenty-two years in this town, something would change, but it doesn’t. The male population is just … barf.”
“I kind of like the consistency,” my friend remarks.
“It’s a selling point, but those guys were bad,” I say. “That first one didn’t even bother to wipe the manure off the bottom of his boots, and he smelled.”
Les smiles.
“That’s true, and guys like that give Corinthians a bad name because people think we’re all like that. Thankfully, it’s only a select few.”
But then we’re interrupted again.
“Alright, ladies, looks like you’ll be our only two players. Are you ready to go?”
We laugh and get ready.
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Leslie says. She gets her water gun pointed at the clown’s mouth. I do my best, but I’ve never had great coordination.
“Let’s do this,” I respond in kind.
The guy hits a button and our guns spew water. Leslie’s is aligned perfectly. Mine? Not so much. It takes me a second to get it right, but once I do, it’s too late. Leslie’s arrow makes it to the top long before mine even reaches halfway.
“Yes! Take that!” she crows.
I give my best friend a high five. “You deserved that win.”
“You can pick a prize from the bottom row,” the usher tells Leslie in a bored tone. She points to a pink teddy bear. The kid hands it to her and she clutches it tight against her chest, burying her face between the fuzzy ears.
“It looks like you’re already in love,” I say ruefully. She merely clutches the bear tighter.
“Yeah, I am! I miss all my stuffed animals. My mom is such a jerk, so I need to win a ton at the fair so I can start up my collection again. But you know what? It would be nice if a guy won this for me instead of having to do it myself. I bet I could get twice as many stuffies in half the time.”
I laugh and rub Leslie’s back. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” I say. My friend is so ridiculous and the only thing I can do is go along with her. But what are the chances we’re really going to meet eligible men at the Corinthian Fair? We’ve never met anyone, and we’ve been coming for years. Besides, Leslie doesn’t even do boyfriends. Mostly, she does hookups and then ghosts the guy after a night.
I, on the other hand, can’t get any male attention if I tried. I’ve had a few kisses, but that’s it, and they kind of left bad tastes in my mouth. So I’m not looking forward to meeting someone because it’s not going to be great based on past experience. Still, I decide to play along with my friend.
“Hey, you promised me hot farmers. Where are they?”
Leslie giggles as we walk from the carnival section to the agricultural section of the fair.
“I’m sure they’re here. Antoinette said her brothers were coming. We just need to “accidentally” bump into them.”
“We should get on that then. I’m only here because you promised me hot farmers.”
Leslie giggles.
“You liar. You come to this thing because you can’t live without the strawberry pie.”
I pretend to think.
“True. But I want a hot farmer too this year. I’ve already had three slices of pie today.”
“We’ll find some,” she promises. “But oooh! Baby animals! Come on, let’s duck into this barn.”
As soon as we open the door, we’re struck by air that’s relatively cool. It’s amazing what farmers are able to do these days. They have the best technology, and if I had to guess, there’s A/C in this space.
But the barn smells like a barn usually smells – like animals. It’s fine. Corinthian has deep agricultural roots, so I’m used to the sweet smell of hay masking the odor of all sorts of things underneath. It’s not surprising, and my friend doesn’t notice it either.
“Oh, Pepper, look!” Leslie coos. “There are goats!”