Lessons From the Kissing Booth

We put aside some of our dignity, carving off pieces, knowing that they might be needed later. It's always in the shortest supply when you need it the most, like very good cheese or tissues at a wedding. I would keep it bottled in jars and hidden all over the neighborhood, if I could. I am always worried that my dignity is going to drain out of me and pool around my feet just when I need it the most--we have a pretty tenuous relationship most days, anyway.

I was reading about flea circuses the other day, about how when they started with real fleas the ringmasters would hitch the fleas to their contraptions with microscopically small gold wire or thread, or glue tiny things to their tiny legs, and set them out to perform. It looked like wizardry but was really just garden variety cruelty. How high can a flea jump? Only as high as you'll let it.

Anyway, if you can find a flea circus these days it's usually built of motors and magnets with maybe a few token fleas hopping around, and these trade-offs seem obvious. Still you would think I'd have noticed when those thin gold wires appeared, when I tried to jump and slammed right back down. I thought I was driving this chariot, but it turns out this chariot is driving me. We're moments away from going out of style as it is, and only history will tell if any of this is magic or not.