I was sipping my morning coffee at a deck table of the Holiday Hotel when someone walked up to my table and said, “Hi, Dennis. Remember me?”
I searched my memory and came up with, “Johnny Dent? Oh, my! I haven’t seen you in fifteen years. Are you still working with the circus?”
“Yes,” he said, “but the circuses all closed in the U.S. I’m working out of Munich, Germany, for an outfit called Zirkus Krone. I’m back in Belize for a family reunion.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “You’re married to one of the Garcia sisters. Join me for a cup of coffee.”
“I can’t,” Johnny said. “I need to go see a doctor. I have this horrible rash on my arm.”
“Let me see,” said the man at the next table. “I’m a dermatologist from Houston. Perhaps I can help.”
“You’re having an allergic reaction,” he said, after looking at Johnny’s arm. “What are you allergic to?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you changed anything in your daily habits?”
“No. I work with the elephants all week long. I feed and water them and wash them down.”
“That’s it? And nothing has changed?” the doctor asked.
“Only one thing,” Johnny said. “Unlike in the U.S., the German circus lets customers feed snacks to the elephants and they feed them peanuts. Peanuts are not good for elephants because it makes them constipated. Then I have to get them un-constipated.”
“How do you do that?”
“I stick my arm in the elephant’s butt and break up the constipation with my hands.”
“My God, man!” the doctor said. “That’s what’s causing the rash. You’re going to have to get another job.”
“I can’t quit,” Johnny exclaimed. “I don’t want to give up show business!”
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