At the resthome, there's this one artist who's very old, almost a hundred, and when I was visiting with her the other day, she was lamenting the demise of circuses, though she agreed with me that it was bad to keep lions and tigers and elephants and whatnot caged up.
After that, we got to talking more around that subject, and I mentioned how my (now dead) (maternal) grandmother went to the wedding of her one friend's niece who had run away and worked in carnivals for a while, but then come back.
"Her wedding dress had a low back," I was like, "And when she walked down the aisle, everyone was talking because they could see all these tattoos all up and down her back."
"What were they?", the artist asked me. "Were they nice?".
And, I had to confess that I didn't know, and I felt slightly embarrassed and ashamed, like I was making fun of the bride, too.
I also remembered at that time that part of that story might have been that the groom's party or maybe it was everyone wore cowboy boots, but I wasn't sure, so I didn't say anything.
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