I went to the California State Fair yesterday with high hopes. I had visions of Fair fun like in the “Charlotte’s Web” movie. Bring on the pigs and blue ribbons, pie eating contests and quartets singing and playing brass instruments in seersucker suits.
Reality seemed to be working in our favor too. There was a low 90 degree weather forecast for the day’s high and it was “kids get in free Tuesday,” not to mention all carnival rides were 1 ticket each (instead of 3-5 on days other than Tuesday). My adventuresome parents planned to come meet us there from the Bay Area. Everyone was healthy, happy and excited.
The kids and I walked through the gates at high noon, opening time. It was already hot, feeling like 90 already, but there were hardly any other people there. We ran up to the rides and rode a few in quick succession. Then I got the big idea to go as far into the Fair as possible and then work our way outwards before the crowds came. So, we made our way deeper into the Fair when the kids were perfectly happy where we were. Mistake #1
We went to the animal section. There were a lot of goats and cows, but no pigs and no contests to be seen.
I put my cell phone in my pocket so that I could feel when my parents would call. After they did, I shuffled it back and forth between my pocket and my bag the rest of the day. Mistake #2
My son tripped and fell, bloodying his knee. My 3-year-old and I got matching elbow road burns going down some crazy slide at the end of the House of Mirrors.
And despite my slathering of sunscreen, that old sun snuck in and scalded me right where I least expected- right where my ponytail betrayed me, my entire neck. Ponytail= Mistake #3
Next thing I knew, I didn’t have my phone I’d just gotten 2 months ago. I searched high. I searched low. I went to Lost & Found, where a very nice man assured me people turn in full purses with wallets, keys and cell phones all the time.
I pleaded with my bag and must’ve searched it a thousand times. I texted my lost phone from my Dad’s phone, sweetly offering a $50 reward. “I’m still at the Fair!” I begged.
And later, when relaying the story and how I couldn’t have left the phone on a ride because I never took it on one, a friend said, “You’re the second person I know in 2 days to lose phones at the State Fair. There is a pick-pocket!”
And that definitely completes the story with a creepy twist, whether I’m 100% certain it’s the truth or not. And I’m not sure if thinking I dropped it and no one turned it in is better than someone signaling me out and robbing me.