Why do I live here again?

As if there was any need for further proof of my madness, I went to the Fairchild Mango Festival this morning. Although the mango is my favorite fruit, this is not my favorite event at FTG, particularly in recent years. As it has grown in popularity, it has become harder and harder to participate in the events. I enjoy the mango tasting — there are dozens of different cultivars, each with an obviously different flavor — but the line is now tremendously long, and forms up in the direct sun. I don’t love mangos that much.

But the real issue I have with the festival is timing. Yes, it would be pointless to have a mango festival when the damned things aren’t in season, but it is so unbelievably hot in Miami in July, particularly in flat open spaces. It is almost unbearable.

When I stopped in the gift shop to get out of the sun for a few minutes, the woman at the register became concerned that I was going to collapse from exhaustion in the middle of the store. She actually followed me around, telling me to go get some water and sit down before I went back into the sun. It was sweet of her, I guess, but her insistence started to irk me. I can’t help looking like I’m going to burst into flame at any moment — I’m a nocturnal creature, damn it.

Still, it’s a chance to get out of the house for a while, take a few photos, and pick up some new hot sauces. I’ll probably make the same mistake again next year.