Clown - aphobia!

A bit of background before I jump into this story. I've been working as a professional clown for years. I stand 5'2 if I stretch so I'm not intimidating to anyone older than 8. I have travelled the world performing, attending classes and conventions. I know how to back off from those who might be frightened - small children, people trapped in an elevator with me or people on pain meds in a hospital, but never, NEVER did I expect this next misadventure.

Clown makeup is hot. Clown costumes are hot. Women who are fat and middle-aged are always hot! And this was mid-July, mid-day. It was very very hot. I'd just spent 2 hours working a small festival at an airport. I'd spent most of the time on the tarmac - no shade just lots of cement. Needless to say, when the gig was over, I was parched! I could hardly wait to get home and take off my costume and hop in a nice refreshing shower, but I also recognized the early signs of dehydration. I'd been sipping water, but it wasn't enough and I knew I was quickly nearing the point of "clown melt-down".

On my way home, I had to pass by a McDonald's restaurant. It was a new building, but the business had been there for at least 30 years. My son is anemployee there so I frequent the drive-thru often. Would could be more refreshing than an ice cold Diet Coke and a small burger. It would wet my whistle and revive me until I could get home.

I don't drive one of those gaudy clown cars - I know enough not to distract drivers on the roads so my car is a silver Bonneville - pretty non-descript. I pulled up to the drive-thru speaker and looked directly into the camera as I placed my order. The employees could clearly see my face.

I patiently waited in line, and finally it was my turn at the pay window. This particular McDonald's is so new it has all of the latest bells and whistles - two-lanes to place your order, the windows have one-way glass - they can see you, but you can't see them. The teenage girl opened the window and told me my total. I smiled as I handed her my money, I asked her if she wanted a sticker. Fast food workers love to get stickers in my experience and of course she said yes.

I pulled ahead and waited to get my food. I could see the manager was having fun. He was dancing around, laughing and chatting with customers as he handed out bags of food.

From experience, I figured she had quickly spread the word that there was a clown in the drive-thru and was giving out cool stickers. So as I pulled up to the food window I turned slightly to get some more stickers out of my bag.

I heard the window slide open and turned around with a big clown smile on my face.

"OH SHIT! OH SHIT! SHI...." I blinked. The manager, who was an African-American man about 30 had actually turned white and then...he was gone.

"Oh my God! Oh shit!" I could clearly hear him screaming. The window was still open and I could see people inside running in my direction. Customers standing at the counter were trying to see who was at the window. I'm sure some thought the manager had been shot.

"Oh shit!" He was still screaming. And I realized that he was laying on the floor. Another manager came to the window. It was obvious he had stepped over the hysterical man.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered.

"Um, what was your order?" I repeated it and he said just a minute. By now, most of the employees had gathered around their leader and were helping him away from the window.

The other manager came back and handed me a fresh order, apparently mine went flying. He told me to have a nice day and I left.

Never would I have expected that someone who works for a company who's mascot is a clown would have a clown phobia! I haven't been back in my makeup. And my son, well, he still works there.