This may be more of a confession, like a coming out
I was in class today and he asked if anyone knew any carnies or was a carnie. My face turned bright red and if the room wasn't darkened, I would I have been called out. I... am a carnie. Not the kind of carnie that works in a freak show, mind you, but a carnival working carnie nonetheless.
It started 8 years ago. It was so degrading. We all knew what we were, but after a summer of peddling rigged carnival games, I tried to put it all behind me.
And then it started again a year ago. For the past three weeks, even, I have been operating a carnie ride. We know we're carnies and we laugh at ourselves, and then get quiet and turn away from each other.
It's what I do. It's what my brother does. We're not proud. And I would not raise my hand in class.
At least I don't run the freak show.
It started 8 years ago. It was so degrading. We all knew what we were, but after a summer of peddling rigged carnival games, I tried to put it all behind me.
And then it started again a year ago. For the past three weeks, even, I have been operating a carnie ride. We know we're carnies and we laugh at ourselves, and then get quiet and turn away from each other.
It's what I do. It's what my brother does. We're not proud. And I would not raise my hand in class.
At least I don't run the freak show.