Clowns

Clowns are creepy. I was afeared (crossword term) of them as a child and I have avoided them as an adult. It’s that big, painted-on fake smile. It’s that icky act of trying to be charming but instead it gives me the willies. It’s a bunch of them crawling out of a little car. I did this with girlfriends but none of us put on a wig and big shoes.

When I worked downtown in the corporate world, the circus would come to town at least once a year. It was about 2 blocks from my office so I could watch the elephant and tiger parade as they unloaded. The clowns lead various sections of the spectacle. I looked away.

I actually know people who have clown pictures hanging in their homes and/or in their children’s bedrooms. Don’t be surprised if these children grow up afraid of clowns or become serial killers.

The three-ring circus is not my fave. I get confused with the three rings. Is she going to fall off the trapeze? Is the elephant going to trample someone? Is the tiger going to strike his trainer? Is the kid next to me going to slop some more cotton candy on my lap? Did I truly pay to be this stressed out? My brain is not equipped to keep track of this many things at once.

Once they start bringing in the clowns, I am out of there.