Take That, "The Man"

Every year in October, the North Carolina State Fair comes to Raleigh. Since I only moved to Raleigh last year, I had never been before. However, shortly after I arrived for the first time, it became clear what my goal was at the fair: to win a bunch of prizes from beating games.

You know how games are at the fair; they're not honest at all and they're set up to take your money without giving you anything in return. Sure, they're beatable, but it's not exactly in their best interest to make the games easy. They're easy enough that people can win and make other people think they can win, but they're hard enough that it takes a lot of luck or skill (and sometimes both) to get a prize. Last year's trip netted me nothing. Zilch. Zip. Zero. I was close on a couple of games, but no dice; so I made up my mind that this year would be different.

And it was.

No, I didn't go on a year-long workout regimen to dominate at the fair, but I did tell myself that I needed to leave the fairgrounds with several prizes to make it a success. My first stop was the basketball-shooting thingy where you shoot a standard-sized basketball into a much-smaller-than-standard-sized rim. I'm a pretty good shot, but I was unable to drain any of them. Not a good start to my evening.

Next, I tried my hand at the booth where you try to throw a football through a small tire. Two successful throws netted you a big prize, and one successful throw netted you a medium-sized prize. I missed the first throw high, nailed the second, and rattled the third throw out. My reward was a bear in an Indianapolis Colts jersey. Probably the most legit prize of the night, but I was more proud of the fact that my evening was now turning into positiveville after starting out poorly.

The next trip was to a game where you attempt to throw darts at balloons on a wall. These balloons aren't inflated very well, so you have to hit them square. My roommate's girlfriend and I teamed up to knock out two of the balloons, so we were granted a stuffed animal. My prize? A clown fish (think "Finding Nemo"). Now, I'm not hating on clown fish or "Finding Nemo," but it wasn't exactly what I had in mind for a prize. Whatever, I was up to two rewards on the evening.

After missing another couple basketball shots (I swear, I was REALLY close that time), I went head-up with my nemesis: throwing baseballs at beer bottles on a rack. This isn't the one where you try to knock down the stacked milk bottles; it's where you try to shatter a beer bottle with a regular baseball. Translation: bring the heat. This particular game was my nemesis, because I kept getting closer and closer to getting a prize last year, but was unable to do so. You have to crack two bottles in three throws to get something big, so it's hard work. One out of three gets you a medium-sized prize.

I stepped up to the line with my first throw...CRACK!!

Good start.

Throw number two is on the way...BOOM!! It hit the row of wood underneath the bottles.

No good.

The third throw is for the money...shattered glass goes everywhere (sort of).

Hand me my prize, man.

The reward this time was a decent-sized monkey, which I was fine with. I'm not going to use the stuffed animals anyway, but I'd at least like some cool-looking ones to carry around for the rest of the night. It makes me look more legit to the paying customers.

Disappointed with not getting the huge prize, I decided to try again.

Throw one...DOINK!! Off the wood again.

Crap.

Throw two...CRACK!! Bottle eliminated.

Nice.

Throw three...the glass shattered again, and I had guaranteed myself another medium prize.

This is where the sin of the night happened: the game guy gave me a stuffed ladybug.

Really? A stuffed ladybug? What are you trying to do to my reputation? I was mad. He didn't even give me an option, he just threw the ladybug at me. Needless to say, I didn't feel like playing that game anymore so I kept it moving. I played some more games that night and got another prize, but the fact that I had a ladybug with me really irritated me. What was I going to do with a ladybug? A perfect example of The Man trying to hold me down. Yeah, I gave the business to his game twice, but that's no reason to give me a lame prize.

Don't worry, this story has a happy ending.

My neighbors have a one-year-old daughter. One of Baseball Mom's favorite movies is "Finding Nemo". You know where this is going.

Later that week, I took the ladybug over to my one-year-old neighbor's house and gave it to her. She started clapping her hands in excitement and just kept smiling at me. Who knew that a stuffed ladybug could be so disappointing to one person and so awesome to another? Yes, there's a stark age difference here, but work with me. Her being so happy about the ladybug was my way of showing The Man that you can try to minimize the effectiveness of my trip to the fair, but I'm going to find a way to make it work.

This past weekend, I went home to see Baseball Mom and Willie P, and my clown fish was in tow. I pulled it out of my bag and threw it to Baseball Mom, and she started laughing. No, she's not as excited to have a stuffed animal as my one-year-old friend, but she told me that she was going to keep it around because it reminded her of Nemo.

Take that, The Man. I won. My goal was achieved, and I'll be back next year to reap further harm on your prize collection.

So there.

~~ Lank