To explain the 2 headed doll. I believe we all have moments where we reflect back on shopping. There are of course the "why did I buy that?" moments, which I have lived recently with my odd decision to buy yet another Vietnamese straw hat that will probably never even make it off the ship, and there are also the "why didn't I buy that!" occurrences, which for me are few and far between.
Three years ago, while at this little local circus in St. Petersburg, I saw it sitting in a glass case next to some kazoos and a popcorn pagoda. With arms made of faded cloth and orange yarn hair, it stared back at me, despondently, with four eyes and two noses. The clowns had asphyxiated some of the patrons during the show and housecats were made to jump through rings of fire to near conflagration, which indicated to me that Russians have their own curious way of providing entertainment, but even the bizarreness of the circus itself has never explained to me why there was a disfigured doll for sale. I stared at its neck, wondering how, why, and when the creative decision to replicate mutilation was made, and walked out of the Circus Abtobo without purchasing it. Why I didn't go to an ATM to get more rubles at the time, I will never know.
Cut to this past week. I dragged Abby and Carl all the way there only to find it disappointingly closed. There were posters all over town and even their website announcing shows every night at 7pm, but it was complete deadsville when we arrived with the exception of the woman who sat at the empty ticket stand. Why she was there when the circus was closed, i didn't ask, but we were finally able to convince her to let us into the tent. From the mounds of dust, I'm guessing it had been a really long time since commerce actually took place. There were no shopping stands, so there was no doll, and I didn't quite know how to act out having two heads to see if she knew where it ended up. However, we did get a complete tour of the facilities -- onto the stage beneath the big tent, and out back where the performers and livestock lived in trailers that were sadly similar.