So the famous annual feast came to my hometown (I guess it’s more of a carnival but we use “feast.”) I’ve been going to this feast for at least 30 years. It used to be run by a local restaurateur and his family, his club and his employees. He’s since passed away, I’m not sure who runs it now, though I did see his son there last night.
Mona and I went this weekend. We had dinner at a nearby restaurant first then went to the feast.
I wondered to her if I was going to see anybody I knew who still live in the old neighborhood.
In about five minutes, I did.
We then played some games of chance. I swear, Mona is hypercompetitive, like Monica from the tv show Friends. People have called her that many times before (and ironically, years ago, people have called me Chandler.)
(And the fact that she’s 4′ 11″ makes her even more adorable when she’s in competition mode. She does not give a fuck. Good for her.)
She won some stuffed animals for her kids. Then we bought tickets for rides.
And we chose to go on The Zipper first.
Around and around it goes, tumbling over and over. Screams mixed with laughter. Very fun and absolutely insane.
And when our cage went around a long end of the ride as it was at the 10, 9 or 8 o’clock position, wow that was intense.
And my phone fell out of my pocket in the middle of the ride. Luckily it’s a complete cage so it couldn’t fall to the ground. And luckily I was quickly able to partially sit on it, otherwise it would cease being a phone and start being a weapon.
And God knows I was not about to let go of the handle in the cage.
Wow, that was not the ride to go on after eating a full rack of ribs. I did NOT puke but it got me queasy for a bit.
But vengeance was mine as we went on the next ride, the Scramble, and Mona proceeded to get queasy from that.
It still didn’t stop her from from throwing a ball on target and soaking a guy in the dunk tank.