Temporary Car Insurance My Big Foot!

Iím a clown, and Iím tired of hearing all the clown bashing that goes on these days. I donít appreciate the jokes and I donít buy into the stereotypes. Okay, I do have big feet, a bulbous nose and a slightly out-of-proportion appreciation of baggy pants and lapel flowers that squirt water into the eyes of the unwary, but that doesnít make me a bad guy. Heck, Iím a good guy. I perform a valuable service. I make people laugh. Most people, anyway. There are a few people who claim to be deathly afraid of clowns. To those people I gently suggest: get over it, freaks!

What do you want? Clowns are not gentle creatures. Itís not in our nature.

It is in our nature, however, to drive around with as many of us as possible squeezed into the smallest vehicle available. Why? Because 27 clowns in a Toyota Prius is funny. (Of course, 28 is even funnier.)

Now, you would think that someone whose shoe size is 28 quadruple E would have trouble controlling a clown-stuffed vehicle. You would be right. So it should come as no surprise that, while driving around with several of my best friends recently, I got into a little fender bender.

We had just finished a performance and we were headed to the local Taco Bell for 28 bean burritos and a diet coke with 28 straws. As we pulled up to the drive through, everyone started digging in their pockets for loose change to pay for the food. Paying with change is always hilarious. Just as I got to the window, we experienced inside the vehicle what is known in the clown business as ďthe domino effectĒ. Someoneís elbow hit someoneís head which bumped someoneís kneecap which nudged someoneís ribcage which caused someone to inhale suddenly which made someone pass gas which knocked my foot from the brake pedal to the gas. The car lurched forward and hit the BMW that had just pulled away from the drive through which in turn ran into the Mercedes in front of it which jumped the curb and knocked over a fire hydrant, sending water streaming 50 feet into the air.

Needless to say, everyone in the Prius was mighty impressed with my driving.

The cop who showed up a few minutes later was not equally impressed. And, in retrospect, when he asked to see my driverís license, it may not have been a good idea to present him with a toilet seat. Luckily, he didnít have 28 pairs of handcuffs handy or we all might have been in a bit of a pickle. As it was, once I showed him my real license and explained that I had purchased temporary car insurance because, when youíre a clown, this kind of thing happens regularly, he let us all off with a warning.

Between you and me, I think that cop might have been a little afraid of clowns.

Ithaca

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