In fact I’ve only ever been to one circus I enjoyed, at least that’s ‘one circus’ residing in the forefront of my increasingly dodgy memory and subsequent to that time in my childhood where I was just in it for the free balloons and giant pretzels.
(If you’re of a sensitive disposition stop reading now or conversely start sharpening your pitchforks and prepare to be morally outraged).
It was in Latvia, during a rare winter holiday and my first year in college, that we stumbled upon a rather depressed looking big top and I was in no doubt that this was completely what I wanted to waste my one activity choice on. Much arm twisting was applied to even get my unquestionably principled family to set foot inside…but you can see where this is going, right?
It had bears. Gorgeous, terrifying, big ass bears that walked on tightropes and rode tiny bicycles.
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