Eighty-One. Turkey Leg at RenFest.
June 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
I hadn’t visited the Georgia Renaissance Festival since I was fourteen. I went with my European History class and frankly, do not remember much except the wax hands that many of my classmates had made. I was a bit jealous. Before that, the only memory of Ren Fest was as a young child with my parents and grandfather. As we waited for the mud wrestling to begin, an MC type asked if anyone knew any knock knock jokes. So proud of myself for knowing a joke, and wanting to impress the grandfather who had taught it to me I stuck my hand high in the air. And was called upon. It was the banana-orange joke, and I thoroughly botched it up. My five year old self was mortified. I wanted to leave right then as the crowd looked at me with pity. It was probably my most embarrassing moment, at least until I turned into an awkward thirteen year old and found everything mortifying.
So I wasn’t a big Renaissance Festival fan, and Patrick even less so. Regardless, on Day Eighty-One I dragged him with me to this adventure village and planned on trying a turkey leg, something never before done.
We headed straight for the “food court” upon entering and Patrick waited for the prized turkey leg while I checked out the other vendors. “Nuggets of Deep” piqued my interest as Dre is often talking about them. I think his baritone makes them sound something better than what they were-fried mac n cheese. Since I had never tried fried mac n cheese before either, I figured I could get a little side to go along with our TL. Unfortunately, the pimply teenager behind the counter informed me that they were out of change. Like no ones, fives, or tens. It was a bit unbelievable, but I accepted it (after some harsh words about planning for a crowd to Patrick), and headed over to eat some leg.
The Turkey Leg was kind of strange. I mean, it was smoky deliciousness, but I get really weird about the texture of food. I kind of sniffed around it for a minute before I dove in. Patrick didn’t have that problem.
After we had consumed our meat, we headed to the jousting arena, where some knyghts were soon set to fyght it out. We were supporting the bad guy I think. He was wearing black and fought dirty. I wondered what they did apart from the RenFest. Medieval Times, perhaps? (Note to self: go to Medieval Times)
Next I wanted to go to the Mud Show, mostly because of the humiliation I suffered there nearly twenty-five years ago. No one asked for knock knock jokes (not that I would have offered), so I was spared any further embarrassment. The show was clever, if not a bit contrived. The actors performed their show full time, as in it was their main source of income. I did some RenFest research when we got home and was really intrigued with the idea of being a traveling performer at these type fayres (or faires or fairs or fests). A good chunk of your life would be spent acting out another century.
Patrick understood neither the appeal of performing nor attending such events in costume. He was especially marred by the horrible English accents that surrounded us. A little kid started talking to his mom in some Americanized cockney, so I joined in. Patrick wasn’t amused. In fact, I think he may have threatened to leave me stranded at RenFest. I guess I’ll have to find someone else to go to Medieval Times with me.