Nobody wants to go with me to the shitty behind-the-mall carnival, for some reason. It’s one of those ride-packed parking-lot joints, set up and pulled down stunningly fast with less than a week in between. You, too, went to one like it as a kid, didn’t you? Between rides you filled your belly with overpriced fried something and admired the high school kids smoking behind the Ferris wheel? If one thinks about it too hard, one might wonder if getting on any of the higher-speed rides at one of these seasonal events is a tad risky. Visions of rusty bits and loose screws and sputtering engines and parts misaligned dance in your head as you make the questionable choice to hang, swing, spin, or zoom from a high place to a low one with a CVS and a check-cashing store in view. This equipment, after all, is stacked in storage for most of the year, then trucked from place to place, taken out and put back; you know from your own experience that taking things out and putting them back multiple…
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