Tears of a Clown

A few months ago, I was riding the subway home with a friend of mine when we saw a clown get on the train at Queensboro Plaza – the first stop in Queens on the N or W line. We didn’t think much of it. After all, I’ve been groped on the subway, fallen in love, met a new friend, been stared at by a really creepy girl – nothing really phases me.
Now, I’ve never been a big fan of clowns, and for the same reason as any other sane human being: Pennywise.
When the clown got on the train, at about 11:30 pm, he started doing various clown things in front of my friend and me. He raised his eyebrows, played peek-a-boo – he must have still been on the clock. We started talking to him and found out his name was Goofy Gary and he was just coming back from working a child’s birthday party in Manhattan. He handed us his business card if we ever needed his services.
I asked, “Do you do balloon animals?”
He said, “No.”
“Do you do magic tricks?”
“No.”
“Do you ride a tiny tricycle?”
“No – geeze, you really know how to make a clown sad.”
I felt terrible, but what else is on a clown’s resume under special skills? And, if you visit his Web site, you’ll see he says he can do magic tricks and balloon animals – c’mon Gary. (And my favorite part of his site is under “What People Are Saying About Goofy Gary”. One fan says, “He's magic. He's goofy. Is his name really Goofy Gary?”)
Since that night, I’ve seen Gary on the train at least two more times in full make-up. I always avoid his eyes because I’m afraid he’ll remember the night some condescending clown judger was less than impressed with his repertoire.
But now, the MTA is planning on removing one of the subway lines that runs from my neighborhood to Brooklyn, so there’s an even stronger chance Gary and I will meet again. Maybe he has learned how to make balloon animals by now, or perhaps my penance will be to assist him on a singing telegram job.