The family used to go out to the Fair at least once every year. But then got older and dropped the charade that they cared, so we didn't go for awhile. In high school I never went because I hated the crowds. A few years after returning from college I understand that the Minnesota State Fair is what makes Minnesota Minnesota. So, after a late-night shift I dipped a toe in the water and went in the morning. I now love the Fair with all my heart.
I bought two tickets before I took a job there. They gave me tickets for me to get in, so I guess I could make a whole day of it and just hang out and eat and people-watch before reporting for work. But I have two tickets, and I decided to go yesterday and today (Thursday and Friday), forecast to be the two least-humid days of the Fair. Besides, it'd be nice to get in on the Fair its first two days, then go six more. My record is three days, and (assuming I don't run away in terror if I see someone while working there) I'm going to blow past that.
Unfortunately this year's got off to a bitchy start. After a half-hour wait for the bus to come pick us up on the pick-up lot, I plop down on one of the seats of the bus, which actually is a coach, with those plush seats whose backs go up all the way to your head so you can lean back and relax. Which is what I wanted to do.
However, as I was closing my eyes and trying to clear my mind after a long day of driving in heat that is a lot more humid than the meteorologists let on, I hear a woman say, "Excuse me."
Huh? Does she need to get through? We're in a coach, and no one is moving.
"Excuse me," and it was a tad louder. Shit, I had to see what was going on, so I look behind me. Kitty corner from me is a big black dude. It didn't come from him. But seated next to her is a white lady with a fat face. A child is seated on her lap.
"You're squishing her," said this lady, with a tone that got my blood boiling.
"How?" I asked.
"You're pushing the chair back, squishing her," she replied as she grabbed the back of the chair I'm on and pulled it back, showing it could have hit her.
Well.
I really have no idea what the fuck she was talking about. I push the empty seat next to me; sure enough, I could push it back as if it were a spring. The chairback's not supposed to do that; it should be rock solid, only moved back or forward with a knob at its side or something. This one didn't have it. It should, but it doesn't. Like I said, Well.
What I wanted to do next was get up and move to a different spot, just to get away from that bitch. But I didn't see too many empty seats. Plus there were a lot of people behind me who were going to fill up the coach, and I didn't think it would be too sporting for me to just move next to another person when the person I would be sitting next to, as well as the other people coming into the bus, would look at me funny. So, unfortunately, I was stuck.
However, and surprisingly, like one other guy after me came into the bus. There were still empty seats available when the bus started on its way to the Fair. I should have moved. I could have said that, like, the baby behind me was kicking my seat. But why would the bus leave without filling up completely? So I was stuck.
What the fuck could I say? I just turned to the mom and said, in a slightly condescending tone, "Sorry." I had an empty seat next to me, and the black dude ... wait, I should call him the father, he had no one in his lap. Well, I could have jumped onto his stomach, but I moved over, reclined back, and tried to relax.
But I couldn't. This bitch humiliated me just because I had the temerity to lean back in my chair? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I just got more and more upset that she got one over on me. I couldn't stand it. But I can't just go up and start slapping her face.
So you know what I did? Midway through the ride to the Fair I looked back and just glared at her. And I did my best to not turn my head back as soon as she saw me. When she looked my way, I looked at her. I don't think I had any facial expressions -- no scowl, no moving lips which form the words, "I'm gonna kill you once you fucking get off this bus," I just stared at her. And I did it even more, for a bit longer, once we got to the Fair and I stood up to leave. I wanted to stare at her the whole time, and I might have been able to crinkle my nose at her, but I could only look at her for a millisecond before I turned away. But I did look at her, a lot, in an effort to communicate the fact that her tone with me really pissed me off. OK, I wanted to intimidate her and make her believe I would kick her ass. Or maybe not, I don't know.
Looking back on it, I think -- and this is just armchair psychoanalysis -- that this woman, who is fat and has an obvious bad attitude, has been struck low by Life so many times that she feels entitled to curdle every last drop of offense whenever she feels slighted, real or perceived. I just had the bad luck of sitting in front of her and having a loose chair. And you know what? If the roles were reversed, I'm afraid I would feel the same way. I would be thinking all, "What the fuck? Didn't this bitch just hear me that she's knocking into me? Idiot." I wish I were better than that, but in fact I think each of us would think the other was stupid no matter who did what to whom.
I just need to tell myself that there's no chance I will ever see that rude woman ever again. And I don't want this awful start to ruin what was a pretty good day, filled with people who were actually nice to me. (talking to myself) Forget the mean person ... remember all the good people you talked to. ...
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