More Violence at State Fair: Unreported “Lark Hit and Run” Danger

I haven’t been to the State Fair in at least 5 years. But Sunday, I cajoled the boyfriend to go because I wanted to see the “Green Dream Expo” and the farming exhibits. Boyfriend, who was supposed to be catching up on work, was easily lured from his workly duties to come and slack with me.

We had a surprisingly good time. There was minimal thuggage. The huckstering was a bit overwhelming, but some of it was fun. We are still debating about whether the guy selling the worm composting bin was having a truly bad day or if that was just his go-for-the-pity schtick. (I say bad day, boyfriend says schtick.)

We decided to get a beer for the boyfriend and a margarita for me. The day was warm, and the thought of icy cold refreshment was appealing. Until we got the bill for $16. Yep, $8 each–for what was essentially a slushy and about 10 oz of beer. We should have known better. Driving home, we agreed that the high prices are probably a very effective, and deliberate, method for keeping the jerk factor low.

Just before us in line at the booze-booth, though, was a little old lady on a Lark. Buying booze. Now, I’d never really considered those things dangerous, but I had never faced one being driven by a schnockered old woman, either. Instead of reverse, our soused friend hit forward, using my sandal-clad foot as a braking mechanism. Let’s just say, it’s a fortunate thing I have some fairly good reaction times. Now, I’m all for being respectful toward one’s elders, but come on.  I couldn’t resist a snarky (yet G-rated) comment directed at her fleeing biker backside, something to the effect that she probably shouldn’t be drinking and driving.

Aside from being astounded that the Fair officials would allow such rampant violence to be perpetrated upon its unsuspecting patrons, though, the rest of the afternoon was a bit of alright. The BF and I checked out the farming area, which (if you’re a big dumb dorkasaurus like us) was pretty cool. We also hit the livestock pavilion to look at sheep. At my request, we skipped the pigs. Speaking of which, the old “Other White Meat” crew was down at the midway giving out pork samples and, apparently, trying desperately to get people to eat pork. Who knew? Are people not eating pork these days? Is there some sort of market glut of pork meat I’m unaware of?

Anyway, we left about 7 p.m.–feet sore, tummies full of some seriously poor nutritional choices (we *did* give the deep-fried White Castle burgers a miss)–and headed back to the relative safety of home so I could nurture my newfound Larkophobia. As we were leaving, the police presence was picking up noticeably–cops, sheriffs, cadets, I think pretty much anyone who wasn’t scheduled for duty elsewhere that night and maybe a few guys who they picked up hitchhiking and threw some uniforms on… But we had no trouble, and definitely appreciated seeing the Fair officials give such an obvious demonstration that they’re serious about dealing with the losers who want to ruin the Fair for everyone else.

So, yeah, no gunfire, but watch out for the old broads on the scooters. They’re vicious.