2

The rest of us laughed. The fair was where the
weirdo's came out to play, nobody from upper class
Bethesda would ever be caught there. It was true for
the most part too. I went to it a couple of years ago
and the only people I saw were either fat or stupid.
Even though we were all the same county, people from
Bethesda were just better than the rest. We are
smarter, more handsome, and richer.

But Paul was serious, dead serious it seemed like at
the time. "Why don't we go?"

The answer's obvious, I was thinking at the time, but
Dan said it best. "I may be bored but I'm not that
bored."

"Yeah," Chris said, then he added in a hillbilly
accent, "The fair is where all those farmers come out
for a night on the town." We all laughed. I realize
now what assholes we must've seemed like.

"Come on, let's go," Paul was picking up his wallet.
"It can't be that bad, and if it is, we'll just leave."

It took him another ten minutes to persuade us, but
in the end we assented. We got all our wallets and our
jackets, and left in Paul's car since he was the only
one of us with a drivers license.

It was only a thirty minute drive and we stopped by
McDonalds on the way there to grab a late night
dinner, but as we saw the twinkling lights of the
Carnival, we were all amazed.

Suddenly, the class distinction between Bethesdians
and the rest of Montgomery County didn't matter any
more. Suddenly it didn't matter if someone we knew saw
us, although if it were a hot girl I'm sure it would've.

Parking was eight dollars per person so we ducked in
the back, only Paul showing his face. A boy scout
directed us to our spot and soon enough we were in the
park buying tickets. But, as I have already said, a sense of dread
overwhelmed me at this point. I am not a thrill seeker
and had no desire to be tossed about like a fruit
salad. Bumper cars and the haunted house is enough for
me, thank you very much. But how could I say that to my friends? My pals? My buddies?

The simple answer is that I couldn't. Peer pressure
is a powerful thing. They would laugh at me, call me a
baby, a wuss for not going on the Sledge Hammer or the
Wipeout.

How did I know this? Because when I was in eighth
grade, my 16 person class (private school) was going
to Kings Dominion, a theme park, for graduation.
Now, one must understand that Kings Dominion is
almost purely rollercoasters and those are what I hate
most. Even the sight of them makes me dizzy and
nauseous. I have often feared that if I went on one, I
would vomit, or, worse, fall off the ride. Not the straight ones, mind you (I love those), but the ones with the loops, the ones that go from 0 to 60 mph in 2 seconds. Now I hear that they are building
one that goes straight up and straight down, eighty
feet both ways. The very thought of that turns my
stomach upside down.