The Magic Show
I feel like I’m caught in a bad magician show, when the dishes are stacked up high and he holds the corner of the tablecloth in his hands, ready to bring the whole house down for a minute of glory, but everyone watching knows what he doesn’t…
…it’s going to end badly.
And you’re powerless to stop it, just watching with this detatched sort of horror, all that fine china will soon be on a heap on the floor, shards of broken glass that was once your life, but now, just garbage. Mosaics, if you’re the creative type, but I’m currently not in the creative vibe. And the thought of going out and getting new china & starting all over again just makes you sick. Because that’s your china on the table. Years of collecting, polishing, dusting, taking it out on special occasions & yelling at people who try to put it in the dishwasher. It’s special to you.
All you have to do is call out to the magician and say, “Hey, stupid, you’re fixing to wreck everything,” but you can’t, because you know he won’t listen. Unfortunately, you can’t take him out back & beat the crap out of him, so you think about asking him to consider a career change, but that’s like asking a zebra to wash off his stripes because they’re no longer in season. He’s a magician, and that’s all he’s ever wanted to be, and you knew that when you walked in to see this thing called The Magic Show. It didn’t say The Greatest Magic Show of All Time, and you didn’t read the fine print, but you’re here nonetheless… and there’s absolutely nothing you can do except the one thing that you have control of; your voice.
So I call out, “BOOOOOOO! This SUCKS!”
And hopefully the magician will snap out of it before he breaks everything, & go back to magician school.