My 2006 visit to the Minnesota State Fair reached an uncharted level of hotness compared to prior years, both in terms of quality and quantity. I had hit the “sightings century mark” at an astounding 6:30 p.m., at least three hours ahead of schedule from previous years, but the cute 20-something blonde that represented my 100th sighting near the food building commons area was a memory in the mere seconds it took to raise my head and find Sighting #101, a beautiful 16-ish chickie with a mane of long and curly light brown hair running all the way down her back, and an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips.
Immediately sensing something special about this girl, I began to follow her and a redheaded friend who was considerably less attractive. The brunette wore a lovely bare-midriff blouse that exposed her well-toned belly to the tens of thousands of lucky male fairgoers, as well as a tight pair of denim Capris that fashionably showed off her glowing teenage booty and lovely lower legs.
It took about 30 seconds for her to fish her lighter out of her purse, but when she did, she sparked up that cigarette. She took a couple of drags before handing the cigarette to her friend and then wasted no time firing up another cigarette of her own. I got particular guilty pleasure about the fact that this adorable teen beauty was the bad influence on her less attractive friend. From there, the girls decided they wanted something to eat, and stood in line at this stand that appeared to sell little cups of frozen custard or something of the like.
Luckily, the stand was two-sided, so I was able to go to the other side and see through the glass, finally getting a good look at her. She was more beautiful than I previously suspected. Not only because of her astounding mane of light brown hair, but also her flawlessly beautiful face, she reminded me of Krista, the daughter of a woman my mom works with who is now college age. Krista is a nonsmoker, and homecoming queen hot…and this nicotine girl at the Minnesota State Fair possessed facial features cut from identical cloth. It was like a fantasy come to life as I recalled all the times I thought about how hot Krista would look as a smoker.
It only got better as the girl stood up to place her order, unapologetically holding her cigarette above the counter and proudly displaying her youthful nicotine addiction to the world. After receiving their orders, the girls carried their desserts and their cigarettes to the sidewalk, where they quietly sat and consumed a toxic brew of transfat from the custard and deadly carcinogens from their cigarettes. And consume they did! I sat on the sidewalk across the street and got to see a surprising amount considering the foot traffic between us. The pretty girl went back and forth from eating a spoonful of her frozen dessert to taking a drag from her cigarette, dragging furiously and frequently, sucking the tobacco out of that cigarette faster than I would have expected and producing a cesspool of air pollution surrounding her beautiful face. She would soon crush the cigarette out in front of her on the sidewalk at the exact moment that her friend did.
No more than 60 seconds had passed before the pretty girl turned around and started fishing through her purse. Could this 15-16 year-old stunner possibly be so addicted to cigarettes that she needed an exciting encore less than a minute after polishing off her last? DING! DING! DING! Every part of my fatigued anatomy stopped for a second as the pack of Camels in her purse was extracted for the third time in less than 10 minutes, and the girl lit herself up again. It was very clear that her frozen custard had quickly become an afterthought, taking a backseat to her obviously insatiable nicotine dependency. She only got a few drags off of the second cigarette before the two of them got up to leave. I couldn’t help but following a little further, even though I’m pretty sure they spotted me by this point and soon realized that I needed to abort or risk being called out for stalking her. As I studied this beauty’s amazing face one last time before parting ways, I would’ve given anything to turn back the clock and be 16 again if only for that evening.