riptive EssaysThe Arena – Sensory Overload Standing here, in this arena that’s larger than five of my houses,I feel like a needle in a haystack. So many people surround me it’s likeI’m a little grain of sand in a huge ocean. The people in the round gymnasiumall form a crimson, white, and blue rainbow. Their shirts mesh togetherlike a finely woven shirt with different colors strings.
Smelling theconcession stand foods, makes me feel like a starving child. The aroma ofthe melted cheese on nachos, makes me want to be outside having a picnic.The smell of tenderly cooked hot-dogs makes my stomach growl wishing I hadsome. I can taste the hamburgers as somebody walks by with one. The warmmeat, with a sweet barbecue sauce is delicious. Then, a man on a loud intercom yells for the players to come out.The roar of the people surrounding me is like being right behind the jet ofan airplane. The deafening noise makes me squint my eyes.
I open themthough and stand of the lightly cushioned seat. I clap my hands along withthe other fans, and my hands feel greasy after just eating a hot piece ofpizza. My mouth still has the pasty, saucy taste of the slice in my mouth.
I look down towards the court where the players have now started shootingbaskets. Their brightly colored uniforms stand out in the glare of thespotlights above. The court has a waxy look, like it was just swept, andthe glass backboards, have a shine as bright as a new car.
The band starts playing a song and the crowd swings their arms backand forth through the air. The mass of people moving looks like a field ofwheat blowing in a spring breeze. A lady rubs up against me as she movesdown the aisle. Her jeans have cracks, and they feel as dry as a lizardsskin that has spent the day in the desert. Her sweatshirt contrasts thedry feeling of the jeans. It is made of a soft cotton that makes me thinkof a bunny’s fur. Then a man in front of me comes to his seat with a glassof lemonade.
The tangy smell makes me squint thinking somebody runningtheir fingernails down a chalkboard. And then the game ends. The crowd all wearing smiles like they hadjust one a prize. Few others, scream and pout as they waddle down thestairs to the doorway. The noise has greatly decreased giving my ears arest.
It is down to a dull roar, like a breeze blowing around leaves. Myfeet and hands ache from being pounded for nearly three hours. Passing thebathroom, a dirty, smell flies in the air. It is like walking through anold abandoned building that hasn’t been cleaned in years. And then I stepoutside. And smell the fresh air. And my mind clears. Remembering timesin an empty park on a spring day.
I watch car after car pass by whilewalking to mine. Some are brightly polished, reflecting the sun. Othershave of dull, dusty look. Every few cars make a sharp squeak as they brake.The exhaust fills the air and makes me think of a grimy factory. And thenI reach my car.
Sitting in the warm, soft seat, I lost my thoughts and fall asleep.