The beginning of the line starts here.
I ran to the left. One ran down the middle. Another swiveled, finding a diagonal alleyway. While she ran far to the right and it took more steps than we cared to for before each of us realized we’d nearly lost each other. In a panic, we rushed back to the point of entrance, sure that the crowds would swarm between us and leave us bereft and alone. But right away we recognized each other beyond the bobbing heads and swing armed gait of strangers, sighing with immediate relief.
The group smiled and as one we headed into the gathering swirl of shifting people. We dived between stroller toting parents and weaved around the slow paced elders holding hands. Their slow movement only further invigorated us to rush to each and every attraction. The cotton candy stand couldn’t wait for us to get there. The bags hung along in a row, waiting to be snatched by some other visitor’s hand. We had to get one for ourselves, and right away before that group in front. Once the spun sugar was plopped into our open palms, the arcade bells and whistles rang out, calling us forward. The dirty, grim coated joysticks and handle bars didn’t offend us. All we could think of was that other group, the one with five people strolling towards the arcade entrance, ready to take over the best machines and stay planted there for hours, a glare already planted on their face for any that might dare to wait at a safe elbow distance to snag the next round. We wanted to be the one to take the wheel; I already had my eyes on the two-person car game front and center of the crazy confetti faded carpet.