Circus Girl

Circus Girl,
Back in the day, I worked for a circus one summer. The troupe played State Fairs all across the Midwest. I got a job running the Whirly-Whirl. The worst part of the job was cleaning up the vomit under the ride and on it. Folks shouldn’t eat carnie food before taking a ride on the Whirly-Whirl.

But I guess I kinda did the same when I took a ride on the Circus Girl. 
She’d taken a shine to me for some reason and invited me to her trailer one evening. We had some beers and got to the usual. When I pulled down her tights, I saw her tattoo:

Must Be

This Tall

To Ride

Which was right above her love cushion.

Now I didn’t know if she meant the top, middle, or bottom line of the tattoo as being tall enough to ride. I didn’t feel like asking. 

I hopped on and rode as best I could. It was a wild ride, but not as crazy as the Whirly-Whirl. I mean, I didn’t vomit or anything.

After that, Circus Girl asked me over to her trailer every night. After a week, I was worn out. I was losing weight and could barely run the Whirly-Whirl. I pushed the throttle up too far one night, and one of the riders got thrown off into some hay bales over at the cattle barn. That was the end of my Circus career.

I still think about the Circus Girl and her tattoo. I wonder how I measured up. 
I guess I’ll never know.
TJM