"Mark! I'm over here!" I waved my hands wildly, trying to get my husband's attention. It was useless though; he couldn't hear me over the noise of the crowd and he hadn't noticed our booth when he walked past.
"Hey, lady. Can we get some pies here or not?" A sweaty, overweight man stood beside three sweaty, underweight kids. Each child clutched a dollar bill in their dirty little fists.
I took a last look at Mark's back, disappearing behind the Ferris wheel. Oh, well, hopefully he'd keep looking until he found me. I'd get his attention the next time I saw him. I turned back to my customers.
"Certainly, sir," I smiled. "How can I help you?"
"What do we have to do, anyway?" the man asked as the children started playing in the dirt.
"It's very simple," I replied. "See that man's head in the middle of the bullseye?" Brian Wallace's balding pate was the only part of his body you could see. The rest was completely hidden inside the tent behind him. A drawstring kept him from pulling his head back inside. "You can buy whipped cream 'pies' for a dollar apiece. You have to throw from behind the counter. If you hit him directly, you win one of the big teddy prizes. If your pie lands in one of the other rings, you win a smaller prize. All the money goes to benefit the local animal shelter. Have some fun for a worthy cause!"
"Ok, gimmee three pies. Hey! You guys were crying to do somethin'. Do you want to do this or not?" he cuffed one of the children in the back of the head.
I bent over to pull three pies from under the counter and heard him chuckle. "Maybe I should wait until it's your turn," he hooted. "I'd get two bullseyes instead of one. Damn big ones, too." He laughed loudly at his own joke.
I blushed. I knew what he was referring to. I'd worn this top because Mark liked seeing me in it; it didn't occur to me that I'd be bending over all day. Every time I bent down the scoop neck fell open and people could see all the way to my bra. I'm not exactly small on top so that made for a pretty vulgar display. Guys had been staring at my tits all day and occasionally making remarks, but this was the first pig to say something in front of his kids.
I handed him his pies without comment and moved off to the side so he could throw. It didn't really matter to me if some jerk wanted to be crude. I loved the animal shelter but we needed money to operate and the fireman's carnival was one of our biggest fundraisers. If it meant letting a few jerks ogle my body, who cared? I could put up with it for a few hours.
I talked with Betty Johnson, the woman in charge of our booth, while trying to keep an eye out for Mark. Finally I saw him walking on the other side of the midway.
"Betty, I need to go talk to Mark. I'll be right back," I thrust my money apron into her hands and dashed around the end of the counter.
Betty laughed. "You've been married five years and you're still running after him? You need to get him trained!"
Mark gave me a big hug when I caught up to him. "Hi, Kathy, where have you been? I've walked the whole grounds three times!"
"Well, I tried to get your attention but you didn't see me. What's going on?"
