Recently, I took the parents on a promised-weekend-getaway, and convinced my friend Becca to come too. (Sorry, B.) We went to visit the Husband at the Rennaissance Fair in Pennsylvania, followed by a quickie tour of Philly, including a stop at the Betsy Ross house.
All in all, I consider the weekend a success. Everyone got along, no one fought, no one cried, no one bit each other — that’is how I spell success. For me, the main challenge of the trip was the sweltering temperature and the high dose of people talking in character. Okay, to be fair, I understand when actors have an accent or a character, they need to do it consistently. It’s only when they start talking to me in character do I get the willies. Stuff like the Fair is called “interactive entertainment,” so it’s absolutely normal for someone to tell you to bow to the queen, etc., and truthfully, we didn’t get accosted much, if at all, and left the fair pretty interaction-free. It was only when I passed one patron ask an actor in a faux-English accent about her apron that I felt an urge to throw up.
But at Betsy Ross’ house in Philly, interactive entertainment caught up with us. There was a young woman paying Betsy Ross, whom Becca and I avoided eye contact with at all costs. When Mom was like “where are Betsy Ross’ flags,” I told her, “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Betsy Ross?” And only b/c she heard our whispering did Betsy Ross start addressing us in character, but I managed to survive my skin crawling and went on to have a hearty lunch at my friend Kirsten’s house.