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Sep. 16th, 2008 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsReasons I Love And Hate New York (But More Love), #76:
Yesterday I planned to take a quick trip after work to the library to pick up some DVDs. I actually managed to keep my trip to the library quick - which is impressive, for me - but on exiting the building I looked left, and saw a stall selling funnel cake on a perpendicular street down which I had never walked.
Now, it is a (relatively) little-known fact that funnel cake is among my greatest weaknesses. Funnel cake is to me as small adorable floppy bunnies are to Honey or cute shoes are to several members of my flist. Unable to resist temptation, I stepped into the street that held the funnel cake stand - and abruptly found myself in a PARALLEL UNIVERSE. I had been standing in a tiny quiet alleyway in Tribeca, and all of a sudden: carnival barkers! Popcorn and pizza! Stalls selling skirts and chatchkes and, in one instance, hundreds of tiny plastic Jesuses! (Jesii?) And literally every fourth stand was selling funnel cake and other delectable fried items.
The stalls went in a line down the street as far as the eye could see. Drawn in deeper and deeper by the lure of fried things, I continued through the carnival like one in a trance, until I came face-to-face with a terrifying vision: one of the most frightening clowns I have ever seen IN MY LIFE, sitting IN A CAGE on top of a booth as he shouted at the crowd, the strains of Bohemian Rhapsody thundering around him.
I know my evil carnival fiction, and I know my evil clown fiction. Having no desire to end up a small kewpie doll, enslaved to a spirit bathhouse, or having an orgy with six of my best friends in the sewers, you'd better believe I fled that place right quick and did not look back.
(. . . but I did stop on the outskirts to get a deep-fried Oreo, because despite the threat of lurking evil when else in my life am I going to get a chance to eat a deep-fried Oreo?)
Yesterday I planned to take a quick trip after work to the library to pick up some DVDs. I actually managed to keep my trip to the library quick - which is impressive, for me - but on exiting the building I looked left, and saw a stall selling funnel cake on a perpendicular street down which I had never walked.
Now, it is a (relatively) little-known fact that funnel cake is among my greatest weaknesses. Funnel cake is to me as small adorable floppy bunnies are to Honey or cute shoes are to several members of my flist. Unable to resist temptation, I stepped into the street that held the funnel cake stand - and abruptly found myself in a PARALLEL UNIVERSE. I had been standing in a tiny quiet alleyway in Tribeca, and all of a sudden: carnival barkers! Popcorn and pizza! Stalls selling skirts and chatchkes and, in one instance, hundreds of tiny plastic Jesuses! (Jesii?) And literally every fourth stand was selling funnel cake and other delectable fried items.
The stalls went in a line down the street as far as the eye could see. Drawn in deeper and deeper by the lure of fried things, I continued through the carnival like one in a trance, until I came face-to-face with a terrifying vision: one of the most frightening clowns I have ever seen IN MY LIFE, sitting IN A CAGE on top of a booth as he shouted at the crowd, the strains of Bohemian Rhapsody thundering around him.
I know my evil carnival fiction, and I know my evil clown fiction. Having no desire to end up a small kewpie doll, enslaved to a spirit bathhouse, or having an orgy with six of my best friends in the sewers, you'd better believe I fled that place right quick and did not look back.
(. . . but I did stop on the outskirts to get a deep-fried Oreo, because despite the threat of lurking evil when else in my life am I going to get a chance to eat a deep-fried Oreo?)
