So I made up this cardboard sign that read:
“UNEMPLOYED CIRCUS CLOWN.”
“Please Help Put Me In The White House,
Where I Belong!”
Then I put on the old Ringling clown makeup and costume, and walked down to the Provo River Trail, where there is a nice green bench under a shade tree. I sat there with my sign for 2 hours, Friday night, to see what would happen.
So today I went over to Macys and stood at the Bulldog Boulevard exit.
A women in a grey wool dress with red and white stripped leggings hit me on my shoulder with her first, and said “Get out of here — this is my spot.” She said it in such a flat, unemotional tone that I thought I had misheard her.
“What was that?” I asked, rubbing my shoulder.
A stream of profanity reassured me that I had not mistaken her meaning. I backed away, turned, and went to stand at the stoplight at the corner of State Street and Bulldog Boulevard.
I don’t wear my glasses when I’m in my clown outfit, so I couldn’t see the driver’s faces as they sped by — but many of them gave me an encouraging honk, so I figured I was making an impression.
Then I felt that fist thudding on my shoulder again.
“This is my spot, too” said Miss Grey Wool Dress. She was holding a half-eaten Hershey Bar at a threatening angle, so I retreated once again.
I was running out of public places to stand with my placard. I tried the sidewalk right in front of the Chick fil A drive-thru. But the aroma of industrially prepared chicken reminded me I was breakfastless, so I walked over to Macys for a bottle of chocolate milk.
As I came out of Macys the women in the grey wool dress accosted me, saying “You should go to Orem — they have more kinder hearts.” Then she walked over to a lawn chair display and sat down.
My back was starting to hurt so I headed home. As I left the parking lot a women in an SUV drove up to me with a five dollar bill in her hand. I took it and pantomimed my clownish thanks.
Her bumper sticker read “Don’t Impeach Obama — Shoot Him!”