Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, Stupid...
Chapter Six
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, Stupid...
*-*-*
If she put forth a bit of effort, she could have anypony she wanted. Golden Harvest had been told that by... it didn't matter who had told her that. What mattered was that it was true. Equestria was a land of endless possibility. All she had to do was put in the effort and follow her dreams.
You had to follow your dreams. Dream-following was important. You couldn't grow carrots right unless you followed your dreams. Carrots could sense when a pony wasn't following her dreams, and then they just wouldn't grow right. They were very judgmental in that regard. Carrots were probably the most judgmental of all vegetables.
So Golden Harvest stood in line, following her dreams. Most of her dreams didn't involve a lot of lines, but Saturday was a busy market day. The market square was filled with ponies standing in line for one thing or another. Some were waiting to buy corn. Others were waiting to buy lettuce. Normally, there would be a line of ponies waiting to buy Golden Harvest’s carrots, as well, but she was not selling her carrots like she usually did on Saturday. This Saturday, it was more important to follow her dreams. Besides, she didn’t see any Saddle Arabians around that she could sell to.
Ponies stood in line for a lot of reasons. Some of them wanted to buy things. Some of them just wanted to look at things. Some of them wanted to make it to the outhouse. Golden Harvest had no doubt there was even somepony somewhere who simply enjoyed being in lines. There was a special talent for everything, after all.
Golden Harvest was not in line because she liked lines. Her special talent was carrots, and her second special talent, if there were such a thing, which there wasn't, was stealthiness. Liking lines was way, way down the list of things she might have been talented at. At best, she tolerated lines. They were useful; they got ponies to what they needed one by one, without anypony getting trampled or crowded out. Yeah, okay, lines were pretty alright. She could see herself being okay with lines. But she wasn't in line because she was okay with lines. She was in line to follow her dream.
She wore a wide brimmed straw sun hat as she stood in this particular line. It did not have any veils on it, of the real type nor the type which was actually lingerie but she called it a veil to preserve her sanity. No, this was a genuine, veil-less hat which she had purchased last night at the general store along with a pair of shears and some mascara. It was amazing, really, the variety of things for sale at the general store. Golden Harvest supposed that was why it was called a general store and not a private store or a corporal store.
She was pleased she had decided to wear her new straw sun hat today, because the sun was very bright and hot, and her hat kept her head and neck shaded. This was, of course, the purpose of a sun hat, but Golden Harvest felt clever all the same for thinking to bring it. Being cool and comfortable was critical to following her dreams. She never dreamed of squinting and fanning herself. Possibly because she did not sleep in the daytime.
The line moved, which meant that the pony at the front of the line must have gotten what they needed and left. Actually, since every pony in the line had to take a moment to recognize that the pony in front of them had moved before they moved themselves, it meant the pony at the front of the line had already finished their business some time ago, and the effects of that were only just now reaching her. Standing in line was like being a few minutes in the past. What was happening now would not get to her until it had already happened. Perhaps Golden Harvest was already at the front of the line in real time, but in line-time, she was still only halfway there.
Lines were actually pretty neat. Maybe she should spend some time standing in lines more often.
But not right now. Right now, she was in line for a purpose, and that purpose was to follow a dream, and that dream was about...
Oh, the line moved again. That was good news. She still could not see much of the stand ahead of her, because some of the ponies in front of her were awfully large, but she was definitely getting closer. Soon she would be at the front of the line. She would get what she needed and leave the line, and it would take a few minutes before that moment in time reached the ponies in the back of the line.
Golden Harvest wondered if standing in lines messed with Minuette's ability to tell the time.
“Are you alright, miss?” asked the pony behind Golden Harvest in the line. She was an elderly mare with a pearl necklace hanging from her neck.
Because of the line, this elderly mare was further in the past than Golden Harvest was, so she made sure to speak slowly so that she could understand her future-speak. “I am wonderful! Thank you for asking.” She gave the old mare a wide, reassuring smile.
The older pony responded with an uneasy nod. “Oh. Okay.” She pointed to Golden's rear leg. “It's just... your leg is shaking.”
Golden Harvest glanced down. Her hoof tapped out a rapid staccato on the cobblestones. “So it is.” She continued to smile reassuringly.
The old mare fidgeted uncomfortably. She glanced past Golden Harvest. “Oh, uh, look, the line moved again.”
It was so true that with age came wisdom, because the line had moved just as the mare said. Golden Harvest stepped forward, allowing the ripple effect in time to continue on down to the back of the line. Those ponies behind her could consider those seconds she had just given them a gift directly from her. A pony could afford to feel generous when she was on her way to follow her dream.
She was now close enough to the front of the line that she could smell her goal. It smelled fresh and sweet, with just a hint of tartness. It smelled like the sum of rain and sun and time and kicking trees. It smelled like apples.
Ahead of Golden Harvest rose the red and white banner proclaiming in bold lettering the mecca of dreams: Sweet Apple Acres Fruit Stand. Barrels of apples stood on either side of and behind the portable wooden counter. Galas, Red Deliciouses, Fujis and McIntoshes filled the shelves. A stack of Granny Smiths—the apples, not the pony—stood on the counter top next to the small bit chest. Some days the stand would have pies and fritters, but today it was whole apples only, though there were a couple surplus jars of zap-apple jam in the back.
In the thick of it all, her signature stetson bobbing up and down as she gave a professional smile to each pony she sold an apple to, was Applejack. The rhythm of Golden Harvest's shaking leg increased in tempo. Her ears flicked this way and that.
It wasn't like she was nervous, though really, she had every right to be nervous. Why shouldn't she be nervous? A pony was allowed to be nervous when she was on the cusp of following her dreams. This was exactly the sort of situation in which a pony was supposed to be nervous. But Golden Harvest wasn't nervous. She was cool. She was calm. She was collected. She wished her leg would stop shaking, because her hoof was really starting to hurt, tapping against the cobbles like that.
At last Golden Harvest caught up with the present, as the pony in front of her paid for his apples and left. She now experienced her life in delicious real time, each moment coming to her as it happened and not a second later. Ah, it was good to be back in the present.
Applejack looked up and smiled. “Hey there, neighbor. That's a nice hat you got.”
There was a part of Golden Harvest's mind that tried to respond to the greeting with idle small talk. 'Why thank you, I got it at the general store. Did you know they also sell shears and mascara?' But for once, the urge to return friendly greetings was not the most powerful instinct coursing through her body. There were four words inside of Golden Harvest, clawing at her to get out. All her life, she had been waiting in line, waiting in some remote past. Waiting for her chance to join the present and tell Applejack those four little words.
The opportunity was now upon her. She had her chance, and she did not dare hesitate to take it. She had to follow her dreams. For herself. For Applejack. For her carrots.
Golden Harvest tore her hat off her head, revealing at long last her mane. No longer an orange sea of curls and waves, her mane was now cropped close to her skull. A bristly, striking orange line ran from the back of her neck, up over the center of her head to end in a short, spiky tuft above the crest of her brow.
“I... am a lesbian!”
The market square went quiet. Not quite silent, as there were still some birds chirping in the trees nearby and a few foals playing in the park that had not heeded Golden's outburst. But for a market square on a busy Saturday, it was extraordinarily, uncomfortably quiet. A hundred or more pairs of eyebrows shot up as a hundred or more pairs of eyes centered on the crazy mare declaring to the world, at the top of her lungs, exactly which sort of pony she preferred to pony.
Applejack belonged to one of those pairs of eyes. She looked up at Golden Harvest, her jaw falling a little bit slack. She blinked, and coughed into her hoof. “I, uh... I s'pose I'm happy for you, then.” She offered Golden a weak smile.
There was a high-pitched buzz in Golden Harvest's head. It took her a while to recognize it as the rational part of her mind, demanding—in not very nice words—to know what the hay she thought she was doing and why it hadn't been informed.
There were... a lot of ponies here. Golden Harvest wasn't one to shy from crowds, but there were a lot of them here. Enough of them to fill a market square on a Saturday. And they were all staring at her. All of them. And she had just shouted, in front of all these many, many ponies...
Oh. Oh Celestia.
Applejack looked back and forth, and then pushed a bright red apple forward. “You, uh, want an apple, hon?”
Golden Harvest nodded and took the apple. She carried it in her teeth as she gathered her hat up off the ground and beat a hasty retreat from the market.
It was supposed to be a Red Delicious, but it tasted only of shame and failure.
Next Chapter:
Chapter Seven
Stupid Life
"Applejack... I think I have feelings—"
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Dang... That was embarrassing
Wow... that was sad. Better luck next time.
I feel really, really bad for laughing at that.
Mmm, Golden wants to nibble on an Apple alright.
I like how sneaky she's being.
I knew that was going to happen once she started going on about lines, but still... that was oh so very painful.
4005750
Aw man. Flash back to fucking 2008. Good fucking times. Excuse me while I indulge myself...
I feel so bad for Carrot Top.
CT, just ask her out, you don't have to cut you hair and announce to the world that you're a lesbian or sleep with a bunch of other mares like your mom. Just ask her out on a date.
I've never wanted to give a small horse a hug so much in all my life.
4011559
She really is so very pitiable at this point isn't she?
I really hope for a happy ending.
4011359 4011378 4011440 4011559 4011586
Esle. Esle, stop. This is comedy, Esle, you're doing it wrong. Hurty feelsy stuff is the opposite of what you're supposed to be doing.
Still two chapters to go. Who knows, this could still end well in that time, right?
How true!
Still, poor Golden. That's got to be the most embarrassing moment of her life... but of course, this story's not over yet.
And heeere we go. I sense a possible epilogue coming soon to this story.
4011625 Comedy and Tragedy are rather incestuous twins at times. It can be hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.
For a second there I thought she was gonna say "I'm in lesbians with you". Poor Golden Harvest.
That paragraph is why this chapter is my favorite. The whole thing is Golden, but that inner monologue...
4012168 Comedy is tragedy plus timing.
Well, sometimes. Like this time.
4011625
You know, before that comment I was pretty damn sure that this was the low point that had to happen so that Carrot could turn it around, but now I'm not so sure anymore.
Ya just can't think straight, with them juicy apples on yer mind, can ya, Golden?
CALLED IT. Horrifyingly embarrassing indeed.
Poor Golden Harvest.
fix'd
This chapter could have easily been 500 words long and served it purpose as fully as it did with those extra 1500 words. I feel cheated Esle
No Goldie, it's the other 'L' word!
Man, Scott Pilgrim was a while ago.
This chapter cracked me up. It's good to see that she's finally trying to embrace herself, even if going about it the (hilariously) wrong way.
4014397 Yeah, there was some rambling in this one. But I hesitate to call it unnecessary rambling; it speaks to the state of mind she is in at that point, the way she goes off on tangents and distracts herself. Her coping mechanisms don't know what to do with themselves, and have therefore gone a bit haywire.
But I will admit it was at least partially to serve the pacing. The chapter needed to end there at the market, and it would have felt rushed if it only took 500 words to get there.
4014627
I get that and I'm not saying it was unnecessary, I'm just saying it wasn't entertaining. The rambling is fun in the other chapters, but in this chapter it was more or less equivalent of watching paint dry and I was wondering what purpose it would serve by the end and why I needed to read all of this. Her entire rant seems forced and rather the producing anticipation, it just made me want to skip ahead. You could have spent those 1500 extra on something else. I'd love to know more about the Colgate kissing scenario. She could have rambled about that and leave hints related to the chapter's climax.
Yeah. I get it. She's following her dream. She's standing in line. Much interesting. Very informative.
4014627
I agree. This isn't a plot heavy story; it is very much a character story and GH's inner ramblings do wonders to describe her neurosis in an entertaining and surprisingly accurate way. This whole chapter is building up to a very crucial and emotional turn in the story, and it would have been unsatisfying and rushed to put all that buildup in only 500 words. There would be a point where it would be excessive, but you haven't come close to that yet. Please continue what you're doing.
At this point, I had to stop reading and bury my face in my palms for several seconds. Then I wrote this. Now back to the story.
...
Well. That happened. Poor, poor Golden Harvest. This would be so much easier if she were sane.
Though I did like the meditations on lines, time, timelines, and line times. I too have pondered the peristaltic flow of a line when stuck therein. (This would no doubt be a harsh condemnation of my sanity if I thought I had any.)
In any case, looking forward to more.
4014792 Fair enough. If you weren't entertained, then you weren't entertained. Perhaps I'll need to take a look at what I can do to make the ramblings in this chapter stand on their own power. But on the other hand, it seems like some people were entertained, so...
(I hope this doesn't read as snippy. You make a valid point, and I am glad you brought up what didn't work for you in this. I just am not sure what to do about it right now.)
4015496 I was going to use that line in last chapter's preview text, but I figured that would be too spoilery.
4015921
I don't care if the entire world was entertained by it. I wasn't entertained by it, and I'm not asking you to do anything other than acknowledge that and use it for future references to better ensure a constant quality through out a fic. This currently have five great chapters and the sixth deserves the same effort put into it. I'm not asking you to write or re-write anything, just be mindful about what you write and ask yourself if having an excessive word count for the sake of having an excessive word count is really something one should take pride in.
You're a good writer. Don't get sloppy.
This is the most hilarious, cringe-inducing thing I've read in ages, and I'm loving every word of it. Your delivery of Golden Harvest's internal dialogue is nothing short of inspired, and all the subtle little callbacks and offhand observations make it even better. Can't wait for the next chapter.
4015921 Well, there's another way of looking at it. You ever read 'Game' by Donald Barthelme? In that little bit of fiction the main character continuously states and restates what's he doing and thinking and goes off on rambling tangents as he slowly goes unbalanced.
For me, the way she kept lingering on how she was standing in line seemed to reinforce two things: One, she's going a bit unhinged as these personal discoveries stack on her fragile little pony brain, and two, she's desperately trying to avoid thinking about what lies on the end of that line.
The rambling and the repetition serves the story, not hinders it. That's my counter opinion to Dr.Fayz, which is also just your own counter opinion. Repetition in the comments even.
luv yur storeh kep righten ~<3
4016615
4015496
Aw man, I had a similar reaction.
After I read that line, I had to leave the page and go visit a few other websites before coming back and finishing this one.
Just...it's too much...I'm overloading...
(P.S. - I'm absolutely loving it. I am SO going to miss this when I finish reading the fic.)
I don't even know what to do to go so far as to make like an appropriate reaction to this chapter, Else. I totally keeled over in bed at her 4 word phrase and had to squeal and giggle like a child for ten seconds and then regain my composure to finish the chapter X'D
But I love your writing in this: you made waiting in line, of all things, a wonderfully silly ramble that fits within Harvest's declining sanity due to her self-induced stressing. This is no ordinary candy colored horse comedy, this is steadily moving it's way up of one of my favorite stories.
4014792
4015921
Personally I was waiting for it to get to the point, up until that part where she started talking about time dilations... then I was paying attention.
=3
I love these parts.
"the"
Surprised no one mentioned this yet.
4015496
That line may have caused me let out a very girly shriek and spend the next few minutes giggling uncontrollably.
I'm binging the story right now, and I have to pause and say: Golden's ramblings about the temporal relativity of waiting in line are some of the funniest stuff I've read.