The tourists were all pasty faced and out of shape, sweating in the sun, fanning themselves with programs. Jim scowled. Not many this time.
His great-grandfather had opened in the early 1950s as people began to explore the West and wanted to have an “authentic” experience. The show, unchanged since then right down to the stupid teepee, was all about expectations from those first few tourists and had nothing to do with authenticity.
The actors entered dancing, whooping and drumming.
The tourists clapped, as always. How Jim resented them. He wanted to quit, but a buck was still a buck.
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