On The Road Day 5, “I is a Carny”

Made it through the first official day of a fair.  Not quite what I had expected a bit long, boring and really soggy, but a new paragraph into my life’s journal. It was a nice change I will admit, instead of  being stuck inside an office or indoor space. To be able to be outside for the entire day and enjoy the fresh air felt great. It was a great freeing experience.

Today the clouds still hover with threatening skies and there is a fall chill in the air. I seem to be adjusting to my 8′ by 8′ cubicle and first thing this morning I got to decorate my room. I scored a black magic marker last night and turned the phrase that greeted me every morning from “Hi Loser” to” Hi points are Closer“. I was quite proud of myself, taking those lemons and making lemonade.

After my filling fast food breakfast at Mikey D’s I headed over to the Corn Dog trailer to see if today might be my lucky day and I’d actually get my free coffee that was told to me by Jack the first day on the job.

There was Karla with her ever present smile. She saw me coming and before I got a word out, she placed in front of me a large coffee, light and sweet, and blurted out ” On the house, kiddo”.  It was my lucky day. Perhaps this was not such a bad job after all.  OK I am now losing it. Even Karla looked pretty fine today. Was it a case of lonilness or simply male hormones getting the better of me.

I smiled back at her and said, ” I thank you very much and how is Ms Karla doing today?”  Before she was able to respond, in back of me came that rude and demanding voice of her hubby. “Why aren’t the tables set up yet?” he snapped at her, like she was his pet animal who just crapped on the carpet.

I did everything I could to keep my mouth shut. I so wanted to lay into this jack ass and shoot the hot coffee all over his pathetic body. I mean it isn’t even 7:30 yet and the fair doesn’t open for another 2.5 hours. What was he expecting, a bus load of corn dog eating, hillbillies to be dropped off?

I turned to leave and before I did, I shouted to Karla. “Damn Girl you’re looking very fine today” and winked, making sure the dumb ass could see it. She looked up at me with a grateful face and didn’t respond.

That was enough for Jack to say to me, that I needed to get to my booths and get them ready to open. I looked at him and stated “A little less worried about me and a little more worried about yourself”. As I turned to walk away he spit back, “what did you say?” (should I?, should I lay into him). Maybe it was the fact that I was in the middle of East Bejesus or that I needed the money to send back home,  I kept walking as if he wasn’t there. Why is it small men have such large balls? I started to whistle and kept walking.

The rest of the day sped by, threat of rain turned into a glorious, sunny fall day. The people who crowded the streets seemed full of joy and looking for simply a good time, away from their trailers and dismal daily life. This was their big weekend and you could tell they would be there for every day of it. The empty stores faded into the background and the noise of laughter and colorful carnival trappings replaced them.

Across from where I stood was a booth that filled the air with some really great music. It bounced back from Jimmy Buffett to Bob Marley. The only thing missng was a beach and the smell of salt air. Constantly in the back of my mind thou, kept the thoughts of what I was missing at home. Nothing here was remotely close to my everyday existence from home, replaced by weird dialects and rising cliffs layered with the ever present Kuduz.

Night came on quickly this day, and I thought would I make it through one day without anything bad happening to me. Then it happened. A ten foot bungee cord with sharp metal ends I had used to keep one of the doors tightly closed on the trailer next to me snapped. Before I could move, the bungee, like a bullet came at me and with a split second reflex my hands came up to protect my face and took the brunt of the metal ends. A sharp burning pain coursed down my right arm.  I looked down and embedded into my palm was the end of the metal hook disappearing into my flesh by at least two inches.

In disbelief, I stared at the bungee, now a part of me and wondered what to do. Do I take it out as instinct told me, or leave it in until someone with some medical knowledge removed it? I took the latter thought and started to head my way over to the managers trailer. The pain subsided and I walked calmly as though nothing was wrong. I knocked on the front door and in front of me stood Mr Happy, barking at me why I wasn’t manning my booths. I raised my arm for him to see and a smirk came to him like the sadistic bastard he was.

“Someone looks like he has a boo boo” was his pathetic response. I merely looked at him and said I needed someone to run me to the ER to have this thing removed. All he could do was keep the smirk on his face and come back at me with ” You’ll have to wait until I can get someone to drive you”, as if they were busy and he could spare no one. Of course, this lazy douche bag was doing nothing but drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. I said whatever, and turned to head back. The bungee was now wrapped around my hand covering most of my wrist.

Over an hour passed and I stood there trying not to let the ache bother me, but I knew I needed it out and quick. My worry of course was how badly it would get infected.  For some odd reason I started to crave a joint, maybe to aleve the pain I thought or maybe from listening to Marley all day. Hell I’d been arrested for it already. My mind was trying to talk me into it like I was a teenager again. But honestly, if there was one being passed to me that moment, no hesitation I would have inhaled.

Finally, another 30 minutes has passed and Jack sauntered over like this little Napoleon complexed maggot. “I got you a ride, you better go so you can get back to close up”.  I handed him the pouch I kept the cash in from the booths, and left him to tend my job. Knowing damn well his hands would be in the bag taking money that was not his to take. Whatever, I thought, it would be blamed on me if anything came up missing.

Outside of town we pulled up to a small clinic. With no hospital for miles, this little town relied on this clinic to tend to their needs, now my needs. I was surprised how clean and professional everything was. Why I had pictured this, a run down, back woods structure was beyond me. But I felt better knowing they had heard of sanitation here.

It was after midnight by the time we left. The fair was closed and my hand was bandaged up twice the size of what it was normally. The pills they gave me for the pain, took the edge off my throbbing hand and gave me an attitude boost, much like a few cocktails would have done, had I been home after a long day at work.

I got back to my cubicle, sat down and spent the next half hour trying to get undressed with one hand. “Hi loser” was gone replaced by lemonade.

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Posted by Eric on Sep 25 2009 Filed under MONEY, TRAVEL. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry