Eeko! the Green Friendly Clown

November 2, 2008 at 5:13 pm (Clairissa, The Easy Chair)

“I see pee!”

If people kept yelling that at you, you would be concerned, right?

I looked for puddles, and checked the front of my trousers. Bone dry.

After a few minutes I figured it out…

I often say Halloween is my favorite holiday. One girlfriend joked that Satan is my interior decorator. The Munsters were a favorite TV family, they seemed more relatable than the Addams Family. (No disrespect to Lurch and Co., of course.) I love cheesy horror films, as well as pee-your-pants frightfests.

This year Halloween was more like Christmas.

It fell on a payday/Friday. Yesss! I usually work holidays  when they fall on my normal work days, and I offer to fill in for others if they have a cool gig to go to. This year I’ve decided to take the holidays coming to me. Halloween deserved some of my love, so I decided to dress up. I made a barber appointment a month in advance, started buying makeup and props, and when Friday came around I was ready to rock.

I wanted some cerebral entertainment, but didn’t feel like drinking. Too much hassle and baggage every time I do that. So I went to see Fwabb. (Friend with a bad back.) I bought a handful of happy pills, remembered I was going to see Metallica the day after Halloween, bought a couple more, then figured I’d better tip my barber so I got a couple more still. Rattling like a portable pharmacy, I packed my supplies and headed for the barbershop.

Clairissa was all smiles. “I’ve been waiting for this all month! I love to do makeup.” She was finishing up a client. I washed down a couple painkillers and offered her some. “Nope, if fact I have some I’m going to give you.” She gifted me with four football-shaped caplets. “I need to lay off for a while.”

I tossed them in with the others. “Me too. I’m done for a while, after tomorrow.” Junkie’s famous last words, but it was true. The novelty had worn off, and I get better pain-control with ibuprofen. (But Advil doesn’t get you high…) “That’s okay, the party will start a little early tomorrow, is all.”

We started with a bleaching. “You’ve never dyed your hair?” she asked.

“Honey, I was born with punk rock hair.”

“I love it!” she exclaimed. “I’m popping your color cherry.” She painted on a concoction of white stuff, put a plastic cap over my head and put me under the dryer. For authenticity, I felt I should be reading Ladies Home Journal or Cosmo, but all she had were the old Rolling Stone magazines I keep gifting her. I read snippets about AC/DC while she ran back and forth, mixing colors. The other barbers had left, it was just me and her. I love it when we get uninterrupted alone time. She’d blocked out the afternoon, just for me.

About the time I thought my scalp was going to melt off, she lifted the dryer hood. “Close enough for what we need. C’mon!” She rinsed the white stuff out of my hair and led me by the hand back to the barber chair. For about twenty minutes, we had matching blonde hair. I felt like Patrick Starfish, looking at my blond ‘do. Had my IQ really dropped twenty points? Must be the pills.

The paint brush was now green; soon my hair would be too.

While the concoction of tempura-paint looking stuff congealed on my head, she started applying grease paint. I’d originally planned on doing Captain Spaulding from House of 1,000 Corpses, but I’d developed a concept of sorts while looking for tee shirts to destroy. I’d found a bright green tee shirt that fit but I’d never worn. It matched my new hair perfectly! A dash of food coloring and I had green teeth. Clairissa laughed. “You realize you’re probably not gonna get laid, looking like that.”

“Honey, I have a blind date with a guy tomorrow night. I’m thinking green teeth may be a good thing!”

We busted out the fake blood. She dropped to her knees, coated both hands and left bloody handprints in a suggestive spot. I spilled a couple of splashes here and there, not wanting to overdo it. (They only used a quart of fake blood in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Sometimes less is more.) One trickle down the side of my face, and I was ready to go. I reminded Clairissa I’d be back tomorrow to cut all the green hair off, and wanted to make sure she remembered. It’s not easy being green, and I didn’t want this ‘do all week…

I gave her a green-tinged kiss goodbye, and went to the bus. An old lady walking past widened the distance between us. Makes old ladies nervous? Check! It’s a good sign. Two high school age hip-hoppers gave me a wary look as I sat on the bus bench facing traffic. A car honked. A pack of kids gave me the devil horns. In four minutes I got two waves and six car-honks. It seems to be working.

It was time to collect my paycheck. I’d warned Master P I might be a little exotic looking. He responded by taking the day off, leaving my check with Whitney, so I headed for the waterfront. On the way I ran into one of my favorite Clean & Safe officers, PJ.

He saw me and started laughing. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat…”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks if I don’t have to smell your feet.”

“Deal!”

I wandered on. Another old lady gave me a wide berth. I headed for the mall. Let’s see how many people recognize me.

“I see pee!”

I was starting to get a complex, then someone else yelled “Juggalo!” Duh, I should have realized it right off. ICP. Insane Clown Posse. I was being confused for a Juggalo, an ICP fan. If you’ve ever taken the bus with Insane Clown Posse fans after a show you know how, um, interesting Juggalos can be. I’d inadvertently come up with a costume more evil than intended!

“I’m just a Juggalo,
And everywhere I go,
Folks freak out
Around me…”

Having a costume-appropriate earworm put a saunter in my step. I saw Alvin, one of my favorite homeless people, standing in front of Jack in the Box. I walked up behind him just as he was turning. He startled. “OH, crap! Look at you! I’m gonna have to find a place to change my drawers now!”

The ladies at the bank were very understanding, although the bank security guard kept her hand on her gun the whole time. I did paperwork, wished Dale Evans (or some old-timey cowgirl) a nice weekend, and continued on with my top secret clown business.

Nobody paid attention to me on the bus ride, but as I arrived in my neighborhood the sun was going down and trick-or-treaters were starting to mill about. Mostly under ten, with a parent nearby. Time to put the costume to the test.

“Hi kids!” I gave ’em a green, toothy smile. They all said hi back, except for a wee one that grabbed mom’s leg. I want to grab mom’s leg. My bag of candy was stashed in my backpack, so I patted my pockets. “Dang, I left my candy somewhere! I was gonna offer Mom one of my Werther’s Originals…” I smiled, she smirked.

No lap rides for me.

As I approached the house, I could see my niece dressed in full witch regalia. “Wow! Uncle Charlie! You look like a real clown!” She found my green hair fascinating. I used a flashlight to accentuate the creepiness, then went inside. I might be a little too scary for the toddlers coming our way.

Despite holiday fun, the world had to go on, and I needed groceries. I grabbed a Freddy’s circular and looked at the sales. An MP3 player for $50! I’d avoided the new format for so long, but this one had a radio. I still had a $50 bill stashed in my wallet. It was a work bonus I’d been saving for a special occasion. Ya know what? Fuck it. It’s my party, and I’ll cry green tears tomorrow, but I’m going for it!

The clerk gave me plenty of space as I made my choice. Yup, I went to shop at the local Freddy’s in full clown regalia. Too bad the deli was closed; the middle-aged gals that see me in all my misfit glory would have appreciated this as the highest of the lows.

I got a few looks as I perused the aisles. Had it been any day other than Halloween, I’d probably have gotten my ass beaten by rednecks in the parking lot. (“We don’t take kindly to clowns around here.” “Now, Skeeter…”) My most cherished moment? A little kid saw me, grabbed his mom’s leg and started crying. Final score? One crying kid, six nervous or scared old ladies. My costume was a success!

It took about fifteen minutes and a shower to get the makeup off. The hair? Well… Let’s just say in a couple of weeks I’m going to look like a living Christmas ornament. Red with green tips. It got me thinking. Christmas is on a Thursday this year. I have worked every Christmas and Christmas Eve (save one) since I’ve been at my current job. I fired off an e-mail to my bosses, requesting the day off. I’ll get a four-day weekend, and be able to hang with the gang instead of coming home to a quiet house and a pile of presents on my bed. I’ve already had my Christmas this year. Maybe I can brighten someone else’s.

Anyone need a Santa with green teeth?

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1 Comment

  1. gee-no said,

    green grin =D

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