That part of the afternoon was fairly agonizing as each and every car in line jockeyed for position, some even using the suicide lane as their personal highway. Although it sounds completely miserable, there were a few highlights. We were passed by a funeral procession speeding down the suicide lane. We were fairly delirious at this point and laughed about the fact that we thought the people in the procession had hired the officer to get them to the Ren fest faster. I for one thought that the hearse was going to arrive in Plantersville and unload a dozen people dressed in skanky Renaissance faire much like a car full of clowns. Please don't hold the jokes against us God, we were only kidding and had to entertain ourselves some way. If that wasn't enough, Emmy broke the silence in the car as she pushed and pushed and pushed out a poo. We all felt bad for her since the four of us were listening intently to her struggle and then sigh in relief as she passed what we believed to be a monumental poo.
We arrive in Plantersville, make our way onto the property and park on lane 25. By the time we got out of the car, changed Emmy's soiled dipe (a terd about the size of a quarter, nice acting baby...) and walk to the gates, its 2 p.m.
We did the important things. Kristen got her apple dumpling and candied almonds.
But our Renaissance Festival experience was not about the satyr music that my daughter jammed to, nor was it about the Alco-Balls that Kristen's client (who was there) enjoyed with his family, and it definitely was not about the giant Wizard that scared the ever-living-you-know-what out of Emmy (Tony, it's a height thing)...
Most of the rest of the TWO AND HALF HOURS was spent trying to figure out ways to ruin their parking lot party. We fiddled with the idea of waking up Emmy, screaming and cranky, and then hanging outside in their group. Tim volunteered to get out of the car, infiltrate their area, fart and then just leave. We all really wanted this to happen. We even thought about blaring one of Emmy's kiddo CD's to drown out their music. A little "Home on the Range" jerks! I just wanted to run a couple of them over with my car, but I thought better of that choice. One thing was for sure, they would not get in front of me when we started moving. There had to be a victory. My passive-agressiveness demanded it!
At first we were annoyed. "I don't think I will be coming back." Tim stated. "Who do we write letters too?" Kristen asked. From the poker games on my Blackberry, to the Meet the Fockers DVD in the car, to the drunks, to not moving an inch for more than 2 hours, to Emmy sleeping soundly in her car seat and Kristen's arms and Kathy's arms, the experience of the RenFest blew up right before us. It had taken 1.5 hours to get there (a normal 20 minute trip), we had stayed for 4 hours, and it took us 3.5 hours to get home. Let that sink in, 3.5 hours. Jokingly at 6:15, when we first got into the line, I had asked where we would spend more time during the day, in the car or at the Festival. I never thought I'd be right!
In the waning moments of our stay in the Festival parking lot, Kristen asked "when do you think this will be funny?" Its going to be a while babe, its going to be a while.
2 comments:
We are TOTALLY with you Blake. The Ren Fair is one of our least favorite places of all time.
High on a hill stood a lonely goat herd, leh-he oda-lehe ode-leh hehoo...
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