It’s the Clown’s Turn to be Scared
Once and a while the tables get turned and it’s not the people who are scared of Clowns: but the Clowns who are scared of the people. I’ll give you a few examples….
Let’s start with the time I was doing a party somewhere in the Bronx (NY), for a little boy by the name of Gerard. At the end of the party, a little boy looked at me and matter of factly said…”You know Clown, Gerard’s Father Cut off a man’s foot once”. Gerard’s Father, who was close by, didn’t deny it. To make matter’s worse: guess who was driving me back to the Train Station?! Don’t worry! I still have all of my Limbs!
A couple of years ago, I was just finishing up clowning at a Street fair in the Jackson Heights section of NY, when a bunch of Clowns suddenly run past me screaming. I didn’t think too much of it, since I figured…”Hey, they’re Clowns!” I figured they were just excited that they were happy about finishing work after 5 hours. All of a sudden, one of them turned to me and shouted “Quick! Polkadots get in the Building!” “There’s a Shootout!” Trust me, they were not clowning around! I heard the Bangs!
As scary or scarier than being in the middle of a crime scene, or hearing of a crime, is catching someone committing a crime and having them see you at the same time! An example of this one would be the time I walked into a Bedroom to change out of my Mermaid Costume after a Mermaid Themed Girl’s Birthday Party. The first vision I see when I walk through the door, is a Man standing in front of me injecting himself with what looked like a clear Liquid. As he started explaining himself to me, I responded with an acting job that could have won me an Academy Award if the scene were in a Movie. With a cool kind of sound to my voice, I said…”Don’t worry, there’s almost nothing I haven’t seen”. He then offered me to join him and I responded with I’ll pass” and excused myself and got changed in the Bathroom.
Another thing I worry about from time to time is being set up. For instance: when I’m in the middle of doing a Clown Show and some Adult places an Alcoholic Beverage on my Magic Table, I’ll either ask them or whatever other Adult is around to remove the Drink. Other-wise, it’s real easy for someone to call up my Boss and worse yet they probably could prove it by taking a picture of the Drink on my Table. Call me Paranoid, but if someone hands me a drink at a Kid’s Party, I always take a sniff of it first. What caused me to be this way was when doing an outside Clown Party in a park on a 95 degree day in July, a lady handed me a tall Ice filled Glass and said “Hey Clown, are ya thirsty?” Nodding my head yes, I took the Glass from her and quickly gulped down what turned out to be “Baily’s” (my favorite drink). It was so cold and delicious, that I
gulped down the entire Glass! “That Clown is drunk”, one of the Fathers said. Luckily no one called up my boss. The next time someone handed me a drink, I was doing a Clown Party for store Front Gypsies once when someone handed me what looked like water, but what smelled like 100 percent Alcohol.
Here’s another example of a possible Set up. I was to do a singing Telegram at a Supermarket where I was placed in this tiny cage like office to change into my Costume. Sitting on top of the Desk in this Office was a Cash Register Tray filled with Money! My Alarms inside me immediately went off, requesting that they give me another place to change, or remove the Money. They removed the Money.
A Clown’s biggest fear (and I think I can speak for most Clowns on this one) is of Teenagers! In the past, while in my Clown Costume have I not only gotten cursed out by Teenagers, but have gotten my wig whipped right off of my Head, inflated Balloons I was holding viciously popped, goosed, and worst of all had things thrown at me! Luckily, this type of thing doesn’t happen that often especially since I immediately head for the Hills at the first sign of a group of Teenagers!
So for those of you fear of Clowns People out there, it might be you who the Clown fears!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Diary of a Clown/ Beauty and the Beast
One of the great memories I have of the World Trade Center, is when I was asked to do a singing telegram on the 100th floor of the World Trade Center. I was to be part of an act the Agency booked as “Beauty and the Beast”. Normally, the Beast is usually a Guy dressed as a Gorilla and the Beauty is a good looking woman in a Bikini. In this case the sender thought it would be a hoot if the woman would be dressed as the Beast and later start taking off her Gorilla costume and get interrupted by a male Stripper in a G String.
When I got to the office in the World Trade center, I waited for about twenty minutes for my male counterpart to get there. When he finally did, in his flaming Queen voice, said “OH MY G-D!! I’m sooooo late!” “Quick Susan, take this Lipstick and write Kiss me I’m Greek on my chest!” With that he opened up his shirt exposing his bare shaven chest. As I started writing, the receptionist in this posh office stopped us by saying “I’m sorry, you can’t be doing that type of thing out here!” We have Clients coming in soon. She then led us into this big Conference room with curtainless big picture windows. The Queen completely freaked out when he looked at the 100th Floor view, and started hyper ventilating: “Oh no!" I’m completely horrified of Heights!” With that said, I walked him back over to the snooty receptionist who wanted nothing to do with us in the first place. “Uh excuse us”, I said “We need a new place to change. He has this horrific fear of heights”. At that point, we were stopped by one of the senders of the Telegram, saying they needed us to start immediately because the recipient is getting ready to leave. They couldn’t have the Queen change in the Men’s room, for fear of the recipient walking in, so they had me start my thing while they figure out where the Queen is getting changed. As I started to go on, I turned to the Queen and said “Don’t be long! Remember, you’re supposed to interrupt me from stripping!” He fluttered his hands saying “Susan, don’t you worry your pretty little head….Remember…I am a perfectionist!”
While in my Gorilla costume, I monkied my way over to my macho looking recipient and sang my songs. Afterwards, I took off my Gorilla costume revealing my tuxedo costume underneath it and said in a sexy voice, “Oh, I almost forgot….” And then started undoing my Bow Tie and unbuttoning my shirt. It was at that point that I was suppose to get interrupted by the Queen and started getting really panicky when nothing happened except for everyone whistling and my Macho looking recipient started to get a little too close for comfort! I must have repeated myself at least 4 times while shouting out at the top of my lungs…” As I was saying…”I almost forgot!” At last, in comes the Queen huffing and puffing starts doing his thing and starts embarrassing the heck out of the Macho Man (and I’m not talking The Village people here) to the
point where like five men had to hold him back from running out of the room.
On the Train ride back with the Queen, I had to hear about how long it took for him to find a place to change that had curtains along with his history of his fear of heights. This profession is not all fun and games and can be stressful in a different way than the stress of a Secretary or Executive.
When I got to the office in the World Trade center, I waited for about twenty minutes for my male counterpart to get there. When he finally did, in his flaming Queen voice, said “OH MY G-D!! I’m sooooo late!” “Quick Susan, take this Lipstick and write Kiss me I’m Greek on my chest!” With that he opened up his shirt exposing his bare shaven chest. As I started writing, the receptionist in this posh office stopped us by saying “I’m sorry, you can’t be doing that type of thing out here!” We have Clients coming in soon. She then led us into this big Conference room with curtainless big picture windows. The Queen completely freaked out when he looked at the 100th Floor view, and started hyper ventilating: “Oh no!" I’m completely horrified of Heights!” With that said, I walked him back over to the snooty receptionist who wanted nothing to do with us in the first place. “Uh excuse us”, I said “We need a new place to change. He has this horrific fear of heights”. At that point, we were stopped by one of the senders of the Telegram, saying they needed us to start immediately because the recipient is getting ready to leave. They couldn’t have the Queen change in the Men’s room, for fear of the recipient walking in, so they had me start my thing while they figure out where the Queen is getting changed. As I started to go on, I turned to the Queen and said “Don’t be long! Remember, you’re supposed to interrupt me from stripping!” He fluttered his hands saying “Susan, don’t you worry your pretty little head….Remember…I am a perfectionist!”
While in my Gorilla costume, I monkied my way over to my macho looking recipient and sang my songs. Afterwards, I took off my Gorilla costume revealing my tuxedo costume underneath it and said in a sexy voice, “Oh, I almost forgot….” And then started undoing my Bow Tie and unbuttoning my shirt. It was at that point that I was suppose to get interrupted by the Queen and started getting really panicky when nothing happened except for everyone whistling and my Macho looking recipient started to get a little too close for comfort! I must have repeated myself at least 4 times while shouting out at the top of my lungs…” As I was saying…”I almost forgot!” At last, in comes the Queen huffing and puffing starts doing his thing and starts embarrassing the heck out of the Macho Man (and I’m not talking The Village people here) to the
point where like five men had to hold him back from running out of the room.
On the Train ride back with the Queen, I had to hear about how long it took for him to find a place to change that had curtains along with his history of his fear of heights. This profession is not all fun and games and can be stressful in a different way than the stress of a Secretary or Executive.
Diary of a Clown/ The Sadisticle Birthday Dad
The Sadistical Customer
A good portion of overkill Birthday Parties I do, are for people from other Countries. In a lot of cultures, the first Birthday, is the most important day of a Child’s Life. As a result, the Birthday Party is celebrated like a Wedding with Catered Food, formal Gowns and the Whole bit.
In the days when I used to Clown at the entire 3 Boroughs’ of NY, I travelled to the Bay ridge section of Brooklyn which is a good Hour and a half from where I live. I got to my destination about 20 minutes before I was scheduled to start, just so I could have some extra time to set up. When I arrived in my Clown outfit, I was very rudely greeted by the 300 something pound Father of the Birthday Girl, from G-d only knows from what Country. “What this is?!” he says as he looks me up and down. By his expression, I’m guessing that he never saw a woman Clown before. Although I don’t overdo it with my makeup since I’m an Augusta Clown and I don’t like to scare the kids with a White face. I’m in full Clown attire from my Red Shirley Temple Wig; my Polka dotted socks, Dress, and over sized Polka dotted Shoes. He led me through his House turned Catering Hall with fancy schmancy tables and table cloths, Crystal Chandelairs, Evening Gown and Tuxedo attired Guests (even though the Party was in the middle of the day) As I walked outside into the back Yard, I was greeted by about 25 kids between the ages of 5 and 9 (with the exception of the 1 year old Birthday Girl). They were also very much into my jokes as I was setting up, and at the same time, very polite. After about no more than like 5 minutes of setting up, the same obnoxious fat man comes back out…”Why you not start show?!” He then started kicking me in the Butt saying “Start Show!” Trying to gain my composure, I tried in as Clowny a way as possible to assure him that I just needed a couple of more minutes to set up. At this point, the once cute and polite kids, started imitating Brutus (or so he should be called) by kicking me too! I of course couldn’t kick the kids, but when Brutus came back a minute or so later and started kicking me again, I was so fumed, that with all of my 100 pound strength and my 5 pound Clown Shoes, gave him a full forced kick in his fat sadistic Butt. As big as he was, I’m sure he must have felt it! They say rage adds strength! Not only that, but the laughter was now focused on him. His face was so red with rage, that I thought “UH OH!” “This is it, he’s going to kill me!” Instead, he went back into the house and had the DJ turn the music up full blast, making it impossible for me to have control over the kids, let alone do my show. I struggled my way through everything, when I started to walk out as Elmo, the mother came out and interrupted me saying that they won’t be needing me anymore. I quickly gathered up my stuff, got paid by the Mom and got the heck out of there!
When outside, I counted up my money and noticed that they short changed me by about 50.00. I called up my boss and told him the whole story and he was more concerned about me than the money. “Are you alright?” “Don’t even go back there!” “I’ll take care of the Money”. He carried out his promise and called them the next day. As expected, they tried disputing it. I can’t remember if they ended up paying me the difference, but the company still paid me the entire amount, which wasn’t that much to start with.
Thank goodness I had a Vacation 2 days after that incident! I was really dreading going to my next job when I came back, but that party turned out to be the exact opposite…..nice parents, nice kids, a lot of clean laughs and a nice tip!
Fortunately, I’ve found that over the years, the good Parties out weigh the bad ones. Now that I’ve been clowning for so many years, and got my stuff down to a science, I’ve found that I have more of a knack for over powering Brats and A Hole Parents. I wouldn’t be in business for as long as I have if I had to deal with too many bad Apples or if I couldn’t turn the few bad ones around.
A good portion of overkill Birthday Parties I do, are for people from other Countries. In a lot of cultures, the first Birthday, is the most important day of a Child’s Life. As a result, the Birthday Party is celebrated like a Wedding with Catered Food, formal Gowns and the Whole bit.
In the days when I used to Clown at the entire 3 Boroughs’ of NY, I travelled to the Bay ridge section of Brooklyn which is a good Hour and a half from where I live. I got to my destination about 20 minutes before I was scheduled to start, just so I could have some extra time to set up. When I arrived in my Clown outfit, I was very rudely greeted by the 300 something pound Father of the Birthday Girl, from G-d only knows from what Country. “What this is?!” he says as he looks me up and down. By his expression, I’m guessing that he never saw a woman Clown before. Although I don’t overdo it with my makeup since I’m an Augusta Clown and I don’t like to scare the kids with a White face. I’m in full Clown attire from my Red Shirley Temple Wig; my Polka dotted socks, Dress, and over sized Polka dotted Shoes. He led me through his House turned Catering Hall with fancy schmancy tables and table cloths, Crystal Chandelairs, Evening Gown and Tuxedo attired Guests (even though the Party was in the middle of the day) As I walked outside into the back Yard, I was greeted by about 25 kids between the ages of 5 and 9 (with the exception of the 1 year old Birthday Girl). They were also very much into my jokes as I was setting up, and at the same time, very polite. After about no more than like 5 minutes of setting up, the same obnoxious fat man comes back out…”Why you not start show?!” He then started kicking me in the Butt saying “Start Show!” Trying to gain my composure, I tried in as Clowny a way as possible to assure him that I just needed a couple of more minutes to set up. At this point, the once cute and polite kids, started imitating Brutus (or so he should be called) by kicking me too! I of course couldn’t kick the kids, but when Brutus came back a minute or so later and started kicking me again, I was so fumed, that with all of my 100 pound strength and my 5 pound Clown Shoes, gave him a full forced kick in his fat sadistic Butt. As big as he was, I’m sure he must have felt it! They say rage adds strength! Not only that, but the laughter was now focused on him. His face was so red with rage, that I thought “UH OH!” “This is it, he’s going to kill me!” Instead, he went back into the house and had the DJ turn the music up full blast, making it impossible for me to have control over the kids, let alone do my show. I struggled my way through everything, when I started to walk out as Elmo, the mother came out and interrupted me saying that they won’t be needing me anymore. I quickly gathered up my stuff, got paid by the Mom and got the heck out of there!
When outside, I counted up my money and noticed that they short changed me by about 50.00. I called up my boss and told him the whole story and he was more concerned about me than the money. “Are you alright?” “Don’t even go back there!” “I’ll take care of the Money”. He carried out his promise and called them the next day. As expected, they tried disputing it. I can’t remember if they ended up paying me the difference, but the company still paid me the entire amount, which wasn’t that much to start with.
Thank goodness I had a Vacation 2 days after that incident! I was really dreading going to my next job when I came back, but that party turned out to be the exact opposite…..nice parents, nice kids, a lot of clean laughs and a nice tip!
Fortunately, I’ve found that over the years, the good Parties out weigh the bad ones. Now that I’ve been clowning for so many years, and got my stuff down to a science, I’ve found that I have more of a knack for over powering Brats and A Hole Parents. I wouldn’t be in business for as long as I have if I had to deal with too many bad Apples or if I couldn’t turn the few bad ones around.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Diary of a Clown/ Piece of Cake
Piece of Cake
In my early days of delivering singing Telegrams for “Western Onion”, a popular Singing Telegram Company in the 1980’s, I was asked to deliver Singing Telegrams in a number of various different costumes and Characters. My least favorite Telegram to deliver was “The Cake Telegram”. No….I didn’t pop up out of a Cake, I was a Cake! Number one: picture having your Dinette Table Pinafored over your shoulders. Number two: it wasn’t exactly the lightest costume to carry around with me in the City, especially if I had other costumes, props and helium balloons on me. It also wasn’t the easiest thing to fit through a Door!
One of my most memorable Cake Grams was to some middle aged man who was some Big Shot at a Bank. The Telegram took place at this High rise Apartment in the Upper East Side of Manhattan with about 50 of the Recipient’s up scaled Friends and Co Workers.
I was led into the Bedroom to get changed, first into my Leotard, and then the 20 pound Cake Costume was placed over and around the shoulders of my 90 pound body. I then needed a couple of people to help me get this Monstrosity through the door! I finally make it through the door and past the crowd of conservative looking Yuppies. Conservative…my Butt!! When I finished singing my song and started to walk away, I was interrupted by a rhythmic type of clapping. They (Men and Woman) then all started very loudly singing the melody of the Stripper Song. At first I stood there frozen until they broke out into a chorus of: “Strip! Strip! Strip!” At that point, I completely took over and managed to gain complete power of the room by doing all of these Cake Jokes. For Instance “Why You Lil Ol Devil Cake, You”, “You know you can’t have your Cake and eat it to!” “Oh that’s so SWEET of you!”….to name a few. I managed to have a cleaver comeback for every Wise Crack and probing for me to strip, plus I managed to as graciously as possible, make it back to my changing room, get paid and get the heck out of there!
While I was headed back to the Path Train to Jersey, where I was living at the time, I heard a voice behind me say “Hey, you really handled yourself like a Pro back there!” I turned around to the presence of a gorgeous Blond Haired Blue eyed man in his mid thirties wearing a suit. I looked around to see if he was talking to someone else, but no one else was around. Responding to my confused look, he responded….”You were the Cake back there, weren’t you?” I replied with a stunned “Yes”. He introduced himself as John, one of the Guests at the party. He again repeated himself “I really like the way you handled yourself back there”. “We were not exactly an easy crowd”!
He then went on about how most of the people at the Party have high pressured Executive jobs at the bank, (himself included) and they don’t exactly know how to handle themselves when they’re let out of there cages, so to speak. As we were talking, I was praying to myself that he would want to continue this conversation over dinner sometime. I was new to the city and he wasn’t exactly typical of the Grease Monkies I would meet in South Jersey. I guess G-d was working overtime that night, because my Prayers came true!
As I floated back to Jersey City that night, I started planning my future with John, in my mind that is. He was the one, I thought. He was Gorgeous, rich, and had a great sense of humor.
The following weekend, we met up in Manhattan and he took me to this very up scaled restaurant and later to a Desert Place. I was really comfortable with him and felt we had some kind of Chemistry together.
As we were walking around the City together, we passed a Jewish community Center. I think it might have been “Brinai Brith Woman’s Association”. “Why are those Woman lighting candles, it’s not Sunday. I being Jewish, explained that is was the Jewish Sabbath and we were also in the middle of the High Holy Days as well. At that point, it was like someone just pulled the wool out from over his Eyes and his sophisticated worldly demeanor turned out to be no different from some of the (not all) narrow minded prejudgeous people I was trying to get away from when I left South Jersey. “How do you know so much about that?” “I’m Jewish”, I replied. You’re what?” I might as well have told him I was escaped from Prison! Needless to say, our Dream Date had turned into a Nightmare! He had flagged down a Cab since we were both headed to the same part of town. He was really quiet inside the Cab, and when it came time to pay, guess who ended up footing the bill? I offered to pay anyway, but I didn’t expect him to respond with…”Sure, you can afford it!”
It took me a long time to get over that one. I tried dating only Jewish Guys after that and none of those relationships seemed to work out either, for various reasons. You can imagine how long it took me to tell my southern Baptist Boyfriend from North Carolina, that I was Jewish, a few years later. When I finally did, he responded with….”I thought all of you Easterners were either Jewish or I talian”. That was the last time I had to lie about my background. We’ve been together for almost 16 years now.
In my early days of delivering singing Telegrams for “Western Onion”, a popular Singing Telegram Company in the 1980’s, I was asked to deliver Singing Telegrams in a number of various different costumes and Characters. My least favorite Telegram to deliver was “The Cake Telegram”. No….I didn’t pop up out of a Cake, I was a Cake! Number one: picture having your Dinette Table Pinafored over your shoulders. Number two: it wasn’t exactly the lightest costume to carry around with me in the City, especially if I had other costumes, props and helium balloons on me. It also wasn’t the easiest thing to fit through a Door!
One of my most memorable Cake Grams was to some middle aged man who was some Big Shot at a Bank. The Telegram took place at this High rise Apartment in the Upper East Side of Manhattan with about 50 of the Recipient’s up scaled Friends and Co Workers.
I was led into the Bedroom to get changed, first into my Leotard, and then the 20 pound Cake Costume was placed over and around the shoulders of my 90 pound body. I then needed a couple of people to help me get this Monstrosity through the door! I finally make it through the door and past the crowd of conservative looking Yuppies. Conservative…my Butt!! When I finished singing my song and started to walk away, I was interrupted by a rhythmic type of clapping. They (Men and Woman) then all started very loudly singing the melody of the Stripper Song. At first I stood there frozen until they broke out into a chorus of: “Strip! Strip! Strip!” At that point, I completely took over and managed to gain complete power of the room by doing all of these Cake Jokes. For Instance “Why You Lil Ol Devil Cake, You”, “You know you can’t have your Cake and eat it to!” “Oh that’s so SWEET of you!”….to name a few. I managed to have a cleaver comeback for every Wise Crack and probing for me to strip, plus I managed to as graciously as possible, make it back to my changing room, get paid and get the heck out of there!
While I was headed back to the Path Train to Jersey, where I was living at the time, I heard a voice behind me say “Hey, you really handled yourself like a Pro back there!” I turned around to the presence of a gorgeous Blond Haired Blue eyed man in his mid thirties wearing a suit. I looked around to see if he was talking to someone else, but no one else was around. Responding to my confused look, he responded….”You were the Cake back there, weren’t you?” I replied with a stunned “Yes”. He introduced himself as John, one of the Guests at the party. He again repeated himself “I really like the way you handled yourself back there”. “We were not exactly an easy crowd”!
He then went on about how most of the people at the Party have high pressured Executive jobs at the bank, (himself included) and they don’t exactly know how to handle themselves when they’re let out of there cages, so to speak. As we were talking, I was praying to myself that he would want to continue this conversation over dinner sometime. I was new to the city and he wasn’t exactly typical of the Grease Monkies I would meet in South Jersey. I guess G-d was working overtime that night, because my Prayers came true!
As I floated back to Jersey City that night, I started planning my future with John, in my mind that is. He was the one, I thought. He was Gorgeous, rich, and had a great sense of humor.
The following weekend, we met up in Manhattan and he took me to this very up scaled restaurant and later to a Desert Place. I was really comfortable with him and felt we had some kind of Chemistry together.
As we were walking around the City together, we passed a Jewish community Center. I think it might have been “Brinai Brith Woman’s Association”. “Why are those Woman lighting candles, it’s not Sunday. I being Jewish, explained that is was the Jewish Sabbath and we were also in the middle of the High Holy Days as well. At that point, it was like someone just pulled the wool out from over his Eyes and his sophisticated worldly demeanor turned out to be no different from some of the (not all) narrow minded prejudgeous people I was trying to get away from when I left South Jersey. “How do you know so much about that?” “I’m Jewish”, I replied. You’re what?” I might as well have told him I was escaped from Prison! Needless to say, our Dream Date had turned into a Nightmare! He had flagged down a Cab since we were both headed to the same part of town. He was really quiet inside the Cab, and when it came time to pay, guess who ended up footing the bill? I offered to pay anyway, but I didn’t expect him to respond with…”Sure, you can afford it!”
It took me a long time to get over that one. I tried dating only Jewish Guys after that and none of those relationships seemed to work out either, for various reasons. You can imagine how long it took me to tell my southern Baptist Boyfriend from North Carolina, that I was Jewish, a few years later. When I finally did, he responded with….”I thought all of you Easterners were either Jewish or I talian”. That was the last time I had to lie about my background. We’ve been together for almost 16 years now.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Diary of a Clown/ The Pink Gorilla verses the law
In my Singing Telegram Career, sometimes I get asked to serenade New York’s finest…Cops that is. On one such occasion, my location was at a police precinct in Queens NY somewhere. I was met by a Police Officer at the Subway Station who drove me to the Precinct. When arriving, the Officer introduced me to some of the Officers who were in on the surprise. They explained that the Recipient just went out on call and will be arriving back soon. One of the Officers intervened saying “Here, wait in his Office; He then led me to what looked like a small room with a chair, sink and a toilet. Yup! You guessed it! The holding Cell! A good laugh was had by all except me!
After waiting around awhile, they hurriedly told me to get into my Pink Gorilla Costume, since the recipient was on his way. After getting into my costume, they led me into the main part of the Station after pointing out my recipient who was on the other side of the room. This meant I had to walk past a huge line of derelicts waiting to see Police officers about G-d knows what violations. I was told to sneak up on the Officer and to surprise him. When an armed Police officer tells you to do something, you do it! I made the stupid mistake of approaching the armed Recipient from behind and placing my furry black paw on his shoulder. His immediate reaction was to reach for his gun! Thank G-d everyone yelled out “Happy Birthday”!
Later on, back in the Police lounge, the Officers and I watched the whole incident back on the VCR. The thing that seemed to generate the most laughs was when I was walking past the line of Derelicts in my Pink Gorilla costume. Judging by there reaction, I could have been anyone walking by them, since they had no reaction to the Pink Gorilla. One of the Officers probably hit it on target when he said “They was probably thinking of how they was gonna lie to us to get out of there Shit!”
The Recipient later told me that I was so close to getting shot! I guess it just comes from training that when you feel threatened; you immediately go into attack mode even if it’s a 95 pound Pink Gorilla!
After waiting around awhile, they hurriedly told me to get into my Pink Gorilla Costume, since the recipient was on his way. After getting into my costume, they led me into the main part of the Station after pointing out my recipient who was on the other side of the room. This meant I had to walk past a huge line of derelicts waiting to see Police officers about G-d knows what violations. I was told to sneak up on the Officer and to surprise him. When an armed Police officer tells you to do something, you do it! I made the stupid mistake of approaching the armed Recipient from behind and placing my furry black paw on his shoulder. His immediate reaction was to reach for his gun! Thank G-d everyone yelled out “Happy Birthday”!
Later on, back in the Police lounge, the Officers and I watched the whole incident back on the VCR. The thing that seemed to generate the most laughs was when I was walking past the line of Derelicts in my Pink Gorilla costume. Judging by there reaction, I could have been anyone walking by them, since they had no reaction to the Pink Gorilla. One of the Officers probably hit it on target when he said “They was probably thinking of how they was gonna lie to us to get out of there Shit!”
The Recipient later told me that I was so close to getting shot! I guess it just comes from training that when you feel threatened; you immediately go into attack mode even if it’s a 95 pound Pink Gorilla!
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