Insult Season

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Insult Season
July 26, 2003

“Wow.” The Insulter called out to his audience. “I thought that we had the best tomatoes here. Guess she brought her own, huh?”

The crowd snickered in one big, collaborative giggle of agreement.

The woman was wearing an extremely tight red shirt. And. Um. You couldn’t help but notice that her chest that was trying to burst through the thin fabric. She picked up a tomato and hastily threw it at Insult Guy. But it was too late. She had lost her focus.

“Aw. Lady. Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you. Your tomatoes are better than my tomatoes, really.”

Trying to ignore him, she picked up her second tomato and threw it. This time it hit the board, but missed the head in the hole.

“Hey. Lady. GO FOR THE GUY. Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to remind you of the big gap in your life.”

She picked up the next tomato and it flew about five feet before it landed with a thud on the ground.

“Aw. Don’t be mad at me. Go ahead. You aren’t so bad for an old lady. Go ahead. Try to throw it AT me.” He smiled an obnoxious smile of surrender.

Nope. She had poor aim. And besides. She didn’t really want to play anymore.

We were at the Renaissance Festival in near Denver. We were watching the insult booth. A guy was sitting on a platform about ten feet off the ground. There was a wall in front of him that was protecting all but his head and arms, which were sticking through holes. His job was to verbally abuse people, who pay money for the right to pelt him with tomatoes. The prize? Winning the affection of the crowd by actually hitting him, or at the very least covering him in tomato seeds.

You see. He has to quickly find insults that are so cutting that the thrower loses all focus. I know. I know. His grand name-calling is born out of self-preservation. Hey, he could get really hurt. I’ve only seen him get hit once or twice. He can always find the barb that will make the thrower lose all power before they attempt their second throw. It’s a sight to see. This booth is my favorite part of the fair every year.

A gangster-looking guy walked up to the booth.

“Hey. Aren’t you supposed to have muscles when you wear a muscle shirt?” Insult Guy bellowed.

The gangster had to stop himself from a doing a defensive clothing check. He threw a medium- strong tomato.

“Aw. It’s not my fault that the girls think that muscle shirts went out in the eighties. I think that you look ok…….. for a fat guy.”

Tomato number two barely hit the back wall.

“Come on. There are hundreds of woman watching. They’re looking for muscles. Oh. Maybe you’re one of those guys who don’t care what women think?”

Yeah. The next tomato barely made it across the course.

“Maybe if you stop shopping at Wal-mart, you will find some more interesting clothing options.”

Weak tomato. “Give the guy some applause. At least HE tried.” Insult Guy challenged the onlookers.

The audience clapped. The gangster disappeared quickly. (Hope Insult Guy has vandal insurance on his car.)

A fifteen year old boy walked up to the table. He suavely picked up a tomato. I’m guessing that he has had some practice throwing baseballs.

“Hey. Didn’t you know that you aren’t supposed to wear your IQ on your shirt?”

The kid ignored him. Probably didn’t know that the number 21 was a low IQ. He threw a mean tomato. Man. It almost hit the guy.

“Hey. You shouldn’t wear baseball shirts. Girls don’t like baseball.”

The crowd giggled. The teen faltered and threw a weaker tomato.

“Besides. Girls don’t like guys who wear baggy clothes, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”

The next tomato barely hit the board.

“That’s ok.” He jeered with a smile. “Maybe the girls will like you better next year, right?”

Weak, weak, weak tomato.

Insult Guy smiled as the teen faded into the crowd.

A little two year old girl was next. They let her walk all the way up to the board. Insult Guy was still ten feet up in the air. The little kid picked up a tomato and looked at the guy sticking out of the hole.

“Bet you spit when you eat.” He taunted.

The kid decided he was too far away. She turned around and threw the tomato at her mother instead. The crowd cheered.

“Yeah. Me too. I’m mad at your Mommy too. She’s a bad, bad Mommy.” He insinuated.

The crowd laughed.

The kid picked up the next tomato and tried to eat it.

“Your Mommy doesn’t feed you at home, does she? You should turn her in to the authorities.”

The assistant picked up the kid in one hand, grabbed a tomato with the other hand and threw the tomato the Insulter. He got hit square in the face. The little kid clapped. The audience cheered.

“Give the kid a hand.” The Insulter laughed. I know. I know. I chickened out again this year. I didn’t volunteer to let the guy insult me. I wonder what he would have come up with. Epilepsy jokes? No. That doesn’t show. Unemployment jokes? No. That doesn’t show either. Probably something about my hair color. Well. That doesn’t hurt.

Really. Next year. I’m going to step up and lay down my five dollars and throw my four tomatoes. Oh. Don’t worry. The insulter has nothing to worry about. I have absolutely terrible aim.

Ok. So. I am going to buy some tomatoes and use Ralph as target practice. Don’t worry. I’ll wait till he’s sleeping. I know. I know. He’ll never know he was a target. I’ll miss him completely. But. At least I’ll get some practice.

So. If people ask why I’m buying so many tomatoes, just tell them.

You know.

Tell them I’m preparing for Insult season.

(A photo to go with this column can be viewed on the homepage of Holly’s website.)

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About the author: Holly Winter is an adventurer who has become known for sprinkling humor through her extraordinary life that continues to entertain the many thousands of fans here at Useless-Knowledge.com. Whether she is giving advice to the new mayor of Denver, swimming with sting rays at the Cayman Islands, or dealing with the side effects of her epilepsy medication, you will find her positive take on the world to be the perfect accompaniment to each and every part of your week. Look for Holly’s columns every Saturday. Be sure to sign up for an e-mail reminder when her column has been posted at her Yahoo Group where a photo will be posted that goes along with the column. Send a blank e-mail to livingthelifeofholly-subscribe@yahoogroups.com You can contact Holly at her website Livingthelifeofholly.com or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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