I had some complaints about last weeks column, people (you know who you are) said “ it sucked” and my rebuttal is – NO DUH! If you could do better you’d be here writing this instead of me… BUT YOU’RE NOT! ARE YA?
So there!
The Homeless Clown
Yesterday I went to the mall, but I had a legitimate reason to go shopping. My friend had a baby on Saturday and I had to go buy something for the little tike.
Anyway, on the way to the mall I saw what I think was a homeless clown. He had a red Afro, long shoes with the tips all bent up, orange coat (it was 80 degrees out) and yellow pants… Really!
The fact that he had a little dog in a tutu following him, and was dragging a footlocker by a giant piece of rope was what got me thinking that maybe he was homeless. Although I am deathly afraid of Clowns, I felt for him and began to wonder as I drove past him – where is he going?
And how did he get to Delaware?
Without stopping to ask him, because that could be dangerous since he could squirt me in the eye with seltzer, I decided that he had been down sized from the Circus, and after he lost his job he turned to booze (he would have to be drunk to still be walking around looking like that).
His name was Chippy and once he was a STAR! He could tie balloon animals in 4 seconds; shoot a confetti cannon with deadly accuracy and was always the last of the 30 clowns to exit the VW bug.
But the younger and more technically advanced Clowns began to steal his limelight. No more was Chippy the Star of the show, gone were the popcorn, peanuts and sideshow freaks, now it was fancy acrobatic Clowns at the expensive PC Artsy – Fartsy Circus, that sold Café Latte’s and scones.
Chippy had tried to keep up, but the grease paint he had used for 30 years had gotten the better of him; unfortunately for Chippy, it was lead based paint, and poison had already done a job on his old bones. Chippy began to prove a constant burden for the Arty-Fartsy Circus Owner.
One day The Arty-Fartsy Circus was traveling through Delaware on the way to their summer homes in Florida and the group stopped for lunch at Hooters. Chippy loved it there; it had been along time since Chippy had seen a girl that wasn’t covered in a flesh tone leotard and in his excitement he drank himself silly (er).
Meanwhile, the owner of the Arty-Fartsy Circus saw his opportunity to get rid of Chippy without having to pay him Circus severance pay (which was just a small amount, peanuts really). So once Chippy was good and drunk they drug him out on to Rt. 202, threw out his footlocker and dog, and took off. When Chippy came to the next morning it was all over.
Now all Chippy can do is wonder the streets in search of a Circus in need of a Clown…
…Now isn’t that the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?
Next week: Shit I will change, when I am President of the United States.
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