It didn't help. I still felt like crap, but I heard my mom's voice in my head. "You have to TRY at life, Lauren." So, I tried. I tried to keep down a waffle. I tried to shower and I tried to decide what outfit to wear, while trying to be on time. I met him at Starbucks, and we grabbed coffee while I tried to decide whether or not he was going to kill me on the ride to the comedy club where his friend was performing. I tried being sweet, tried being funny. We had a good time over lattes. I decided that he was harmless, so we got in his car and drove to Boca.
We got to the club, and it was a country club disguised as a comedy club. The small stage looked like it had been decorated by the people who set dressed The Golden Girls condo. We got our required beverages, and the opening act came up on the stage. His set was ok. Then they started the introduction of the headliner. The voiceover track announced that this gentlemen had performed with various circuses. I laughed to myself. What the hell is happening?
Then it happened. A huge, smirking clown came striding towards the stage.
|This guy. I'm smiling but crying inside.|
I looked at my date and whispered, "I hate clowns. They're terrifying." My grandmother had a clown doll that sat in her basement. You pulled a cord, and the thing laughed. AND LAUGHED AND LAUGHED. Sometimes you wouldn't have to pull the string. It just WENT OFF. It was terrifying, and after reading Stephen King's IT at the age of 10, I have been scarred for life. But back to the present. My date laughed, and the show started. The guy was creepy and funny, but I kept having moments where I was reminded that there was a fucking CLOWN staring at me with his creepy, bulging eyeballs and leering grin. I sipped my $10 beverage nervously, then switched to water. I didn't want to have any sort of anything hindering me from beating the crap out of that clown if he came anywhere near me.
I went to the bathroom after avoiding the guy in the lobby, and as I washed my hands I resigned myself. My date was outside with his friend, so I went back to the area where the comedian, The Disgruntled Clown, was hawking merch. I walked straight up to him, said, "I'm scared of clowns, but that was a good set. Thank you." He put a sticker on my jacket that said, "I've been clowned" then asked if I wanted to buy a shot glass. I said no but asked for the above picture.
I conquered my fear of clowns. At least that one clown. And I tried at life. And stopped myself from throwing up on my date on the way home. WIN,