1/14/02: Some Clown
I stepped onto the subway this morning and there was this clown sitting there. I mean a clown. With a red foam nose and colorful odd clothing. I sat down sort of opposite him and made a vague attempt to read the want ads. I had a pink highlighter in my hand as I read. You know. To highlight things.
"Does it ever bother you?" said a girl sitting next to the clown. "I mean, everyone like, looking at you?"
"Like they are now?" said the clown.
"Yeah, like now," agreed the girl, and her friend laughed. They both looked about college age, so maybe a year or two younger than me, and they kind of looked like the girls I wouldn't have been friends with in high school but would have gotten along fine with in college. I looked down at the newspaper. Executive Receptionist. Must have good voice & communication skills. Must have polished professional demeanor. $22K. no benefits.
"It doesn't bother me," said the clown. "You get to meet some nice people this way."
"Like us?"
"Yeah, well, you're talking to me, right?" It was hard to judge the clown's age. He seemed in his 30s or so, but with the foam nose, who can tell for sure. Not so old that a pair of 20-something girls would be an unwelcome intrusion into his commute.
"We're Greek," said the girl. "We don't care." She and her friend laughed. The clown pulled out a long thin balloon, the kind you blow up and make balloon animals out of. Well, not you. Unless you're a clown. "Ooh," said the girl, "will you make me something?"
"Of course I will," said the clown, and depsite my rapt attention for the job market (skg Jr Processor w/min 2+ yrs exp convent'l & basic FHA, DU/LP knowl must. FT + mandt'y OT) I couldn't help but look up. The clown blew up the balloon in one breath and then made a quick motion at the bottom. He passed it to the girl, but as she went to take it, it blew away, deflating, flying around the car, squeaking. She burst into laughter, as did her friend and two of my neighbors, a young black man with headphones and a middle aged white woman with a casserole in her lap. I found myself smiling.
"That was really funny," said the girl. "Look where it landed!" She pointed over my head at the pole that goes around the top wall of the car, something to hold onto as you ride. The balloon was hanging limply on the pole, like a sock on a clothesline. The sight of the balloon was so ridiculous even I had to laugh.
While we were all laughing, the clown blew up another balloon, then let that one go, too. It also flew around the room and hit a guy in the head, a guy who was facing the other direction in a deliberate attempt to ignore us. He gave the clown a dirty look, so we all laughed at him for being such a stick-in-the-mud. After a last look at the paper (MODELS WANTED For Elegant Holiday Parties. $15/hour. Some late nites/wknds. 18 and up. Head shot, exper. prefered.) I put the cap on the highlighter and put it and the paper back in my bag.
The clown then blew up another balloon, tied this one, and twisted it with a second ballon into a sort of flower. He bowed and gave it to the first girl, who took it and said, "There's nothing sexier than a guy who uses his rubbers." Her friend laughed. Just then we pulled into the next station and the clown quickly passed out his business card to the girls, to me, and to my two neighbors, and stepped off the train. As he stepped off, those who were stepping in looked at him with poorly veiled curiosity. One woman's eyes travelled the car, from the balloon on the floor to the balloon hanging on the pole to the balloon in the girl's hand. My neighbors and I looked at each other and smiled.
Sometimes, I really love this city.