There is danger at the fairgrounds. It’s not from the expected. It’s not bad equipment or poorly maintained rides. It’s not thieves and pickpockets hiding among the crowds, looking for their mark. And it’s not farm animals looking to terrorize that unknowing visitor who leans in too far.
It’s the food.
No food in the fair can be considered healthy. Even if they happen to start out that way, they are quickly corrupted by life on the road with the carnies.
Mothers try to avert their children’s eyes. Doctors cry out dire warnings. All to no avail.
The bright lights, blowing streamers, and bold graphics grab the attention of the hapless passerby and hook them in with their dangerous delicacies.
Those tired of the non-trans fat foods available to them rebel like 12 year olds and gorge themselves on double battered corn dogs or gyros. Married men get even with their wives and pick the deep fried cauliflower or fried corn on the cob expounding how there are indeed, “Eating their vegetables.”
Only the truly shameless, though, will walk straight up to the concession stand and ask for the deep fried Oreo.
I thought that was the worst it could get, but I was proven wrong. There, in the corner of the window, silent stood the sign of oblivion. The one thing in the entire world that would bring every cardiologist to his or her knees.
After seeing such horror, I found safety behind a standard corndog. For after all, they’ve been around for generations.