January 15, 2008

Proof It Was Monday

It's been a while since I've had one of my patented Rude Cactus Bathroom Encounters. That streak obviously had to end sometime. And end it did in a big way.

Yesterday morning I walked into the bathroom of the gigantic office building in which I was working for the day. I was immediately scared for both my sanity and my life. What did I spy jutting out from under a stall door? Clown shoes. Yes, you read that correctly. Clown shoes. The shoes themselves were multi-colored. They were adorned with buckles and were so long they terminated outside the stall.

This is the stuff of nightmares. The stuff that triggers sinister theme music in one's head. The stuff that makes you think this is how I will die, killed by a homicidal clown in a men's room and I didn't even get to pee first. Upon seeing the horror in front of me I inadvertently let out a hushed fuck. It wasn't hushed enough. I got a reply. It's a long story came a soft voice from the stall. And I bet it was. But I wasn't going to find out first hand. I turned around and left the way I'd come.

Yesterday after work, I hit a local bookstore before coming home. The first book I saw upon entering was entitled Cooking Diabetic which made me think that cooking an individual suffering from that particular malady was a disturbing and somewhat disproportionate response to what is in many cases a treatable condition. I was looking at a particular book when a well-dressed woman in her 50s who'd obviously paid to have a great deal of work done to encourage casual observers such as myself to conclude that she was in her 30s walked up next to me. She picked up a book then ripped a fart of startling ferocity. Then she left.

It was then that I realized the world was letting me know that it was, in fact, Monday. But I still wonder about that clown. What circumstances would lead to one wearing clown shoes in an office building? That's not a rhetorical question - let your imagination run wild.

Posted by Chris at January 15, 2008 6:40 AM
Comments

You know what they say about a man who wears clown shoes, don't ya? LOL Probably the results of a lost bet.

We have a notorious farter in our women's group at church. She just lets it rip any old time and acts like it never happened. Come to think of it, those meetings always used to be on Monday evenings...

Posted by: hrmommy at January 15, 2008 7:00 AM

Chris, seriously man, you could not make this stuff up. I love that the clown heard you too. That's soooo weird.

Posted by: Heather at January 15, 2008 7:01 AM

I'm feeling some definite schadenfreude here. Thanks for the morning laugh - it was a great way to start the day!

Posted by: Jessie at January 15, 2008 7:06 AM

Clowns poop??

Posted by: DebbieDoesLife at January 15, 2008 7:17 AM

Clowns poop?? Now that is scary!!

Posted by: DebbieDoesLife at January 15, 2008 7:17 AM

The only way to get through a Monday is by wearing your clown shoes to work.

Maybe he had a wild weekend and lost his regular shoes, and all he could find was the clown shoes.

You should have stuck around to check out the rest of the outfit and find out what the long story was.

Posted by: Nila at January 15, 2008 7:54 AM

I'd have had to ask what the story was.

Posted by: Alissa at January 15, 2008 8:00 AM

Oh Sweet Jebus. I hope is wasn't Pennywise.

Posted by: Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah at January 15, 2008 8:01 AM

Clown shoes are the latest fashion accessory for men who have a wide stance. I just wished you had stayed longer to see how many clowns came out of that one little stall.

Posted by: Marshall Karp at January 15, 2008 8:08 AM

You LEFT?! You just LEFT?!

Chris, that's like - starting a scary story and not finishing. You just can't do that.

And now, we'll never know. Put it on the list with, "How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootie Pop?"

Posted by: Emily at January 15, 2008 8:19 AM

He lost a bet. Or perhaps he was waiting for the rest of his Insane Posse so they could rip out some seriously disturbing rock-flavored music. It was still a lovely understated exchange you each shared, though.

Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' at January 15, 2008 8:20 AM

Clowns scare the hell out of me and if I were to see one in the bathroom, you'd better bet I'd be running the opposite direction as fast as humanly possible. Creepy.

Posted by: claire at January 15, 2008 8:20 AM

Oh man, you didn't hang out to see who walked out wearing clown shoes? The curiosity would have killed me!

Posted by: Lisa at January 15, 2008 8:25 AM

This isn't my imagination running wild - all I can think of is the year that my husband thought it would be a fantastic idea to get me a singing telegram for my birthday. It was this goofy guy dressed up like a nerd - he sang and did this whole spiel. It was MORTIFYING. That as probably some lame-ass husband's idea of a gift for his wife - a clown-o-gram or some such. And I hope the wife gave him hell when he got home.

Posted by: Sarah at January 15, 2008 8:45 AM

You know what they say about the size of a man's shoes... You should have gotten that clown's number - and then passed it along to all of us single blogettes. I'm just sayin'.

Posted by: GreenCanary at January 15, 2008 9:36 AM

You should have waitied to see just how many clowns came out of the stall... One, Two, Three, Four, Four and Half (a midget clown), FIve and half.... and so on...

Posted by: william at January 15, 2008 9:37 AM

I am praying there was some sort of costume party going on later that day.

Posted by: Fraulein N at January 15, 2008 9:46 AM

Right now, if clown shoes made my feet stop hurting I would wear them. Unfortunately I don't have any so I am off to the Podiatrist on Thursday!

Posted by: Maribeth at January 15, 2008 9:47 AM

now i'm going to spend the rest of the day wondering what story could possibly be behind a man wearing clown shoes in a giant office building in the middle of the day.

Posted by: Jared at January 15, 2008 9:57 AM

Now I'll always wonder why the clown shoes.

Posted by: ann adams at January 15, 2008 10:13 AM

I need to not read your blog while I'm listening in on conference calls. Snorting with 14 colleagues listening isn't exactly professional. I guess it's as professional as wearing clown shoes to work. I should try that.

Posted by: Pocklock at January 15, 2008 10:25 AM

Clowns and farts. What more could you want?

"It's a long story" - that seriously cracks me up.

Posted by: Aimee Greeblemonkey at January 15, 2008 10:39 AM

Missed the smackdown, so I composed this in honour of your burgeoning family.

'ku 'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku
'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku
'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku, 'ku.

Elegant and timeless.

Z

Posted by: zeno at January 15, 2008 10:50 AM

I would have done the same as you...probably not hushed in my response either!

I'm guessing a lost bet too...

Posted by: Sue at January 15, 2008 10:55 AM

I can NOT believe you didn't wait to see what the well dressed clown wears these days!

Posted by: Judy at January 15, 2008 11:01 AM

A wild, half-drowned in margaritas night on the town? Just broke up with his controlling girlfriend who works for the circus and she super-glued them to his feet while he was sleeping in revenge? Starting a new fashion trend gone wrong?

Oh the possibilities.

Posted by: Sarah R at January 15, 2008 11:25 AM

Oh dear lord, I love you, man.

Posted by: Mr Lady at January 15, 2008 11:37 AM

AAaa-HAH, I found you! Holy F*** man? Can't a clown dude take a shit in peace. Look, I have had a really rough day and I don't need some smarty pants, polished shoe wearing bookworm to ride my ass in the bathroom at work! I've got clown kids at home too you know. I have to put banana peels on the table just like you. I put my clown shoes on one big fat toe at a time just like the rest of you GEN X motherf***ers. Maybe you could give a little respect to your horror film making, nightmare rousing, check-under-the-bed-for-me, big multi-colored shoe wearing, elder clown! So, f*** off Cactus....go empty your pricker in someone elses restroom! Oh, and I mean it, you better look under your bed tonight (and the closet too)....Mouaaaaaha ha hah haaaaaaaa!

Posted by: Mr. Clown at January 15, 2008 12:14 PM

This could replace the bear -- does a clown shit in the woods, or...in an office building men's room?

Or maybe that won't catch on.

Posted by: Wendy at January 15, 2008 12:16 PM

A long story...yes...but one worth hearing. After he got out of the bathroom and washed his hands, of course.

Posted by: Anastasia Beaverhausen at January 15, 2008 12:21 PM

I would have turned around and walked out also. I bet he was one of those clowns with a sad face. Creepy and wrong.

Posted by: anna at January 15, 2008 2:24 PM

Seriously, you have to do some recon with the people who regularly work in the office building and find out wtf was going on with the clown!

Posted by: Vaguely Urban at January 15, 2008 3:27 PM

a couple of ingrown toenails, that's what.

Posted by: struglas at January 15, 2008 3:48 PM

As soon as I saw "clown shoes" my eyes got wide and I started giggling.

Posted by: Poppy at January 15, 2008 5:10 PM

A clown in the bathroom would be enough to send me screaming from the room! Unless it was at the circus, of course. That would make sense. In this case, I'm guessing you have a consultant in town on business who decided to get a little frisky, ordered a hooker, and got one who robbed him and left him with only a clown suit to wear.

As a diabetic, I'd like to appeal to the world at large to not cook and eat us. Our blood sugar may be high, but you're still better off with a cookie.

Posted by: bad penguin at January 15, 2008 5:14 PM

Everyone else is off and running with the clown issue... but I got stuck on the woman farting right next to you. (I hate clowns... and, well, farting is more my style, or, um, it's more 'human'... anyway...) Although she paid for her outward appearance, she apparently forgot to get a set of hearing aids while she was at it.

You had a hell of a Monday... and I had mine today, on a Tuesday. It's all relative, I suppose...

Posted by: ironic1 at January 15, 2008 8:06 PM

So I'm thinking that it was a space-time continuum thing, where the person was asked: "Do you want to live forever?" or "The span of a normal life?" and said yes.

But then was stuck in a clown suit.

Forever.

Wouldn't you hide in a bathroom?

Posted by: alektra at January 15, 2008 9:48 PM

My most terrifying encounter with a clown was when I was working at a grocery store in high school, and a clown came in and purchased some groceries. I rung him up and told him the price. He reached his hand into his pocket for his "money" and pulled out a handful of balloons (not blown up, of course). I wasn't that amused, and he wasn't backing down until he got the reaction that he wanted. So we awkwardly just stood there staring at each other, waiting for someone to crack. If I remember right, he finally just gave up and paid me.

Posted by: angela at January 15, 2008 9:49 PM

My most terrifying encounter with a clown was when I was working at a grocery store in high school, and a clown came in and purchased some groceries. I rung him up and told him the price. He reached his hand into his pocket for his "money" and pulled out a handful of balloons (not blown up, of course). I wasn't that amused, and he wasn't backing down until he got the reaction that he wanted. So we awkwardly just stood there staring at each other, waiting for someone to crack. If I remember right, he finally just gave up and paid me.

Posted by: angela at January 15, 2008 9:50 PM

Well, at least is wasn't a flatulent clown.

I also think he was wearing the shoes as a bet. He probably bet on one of the weekend football games.

Posted by: Kali at January 15, 2008 10:40 PM

Goddamn. what do you mean you left? Just for us you should have stayed. Although I understand the fear. "And then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask." (Sorry made me think of that lyrics.)

As for the book store... reminds me of the Simpson... "How to cook humans..."

Killer post. Thanks

Posted by: Nat at January 15, 2008 11:07 PM

Are you fucking kidding me? Clown shoes? Though I understand your instinct to flee, I can't help but wonder whether he was sporting the rest of the clown outfit and wish you'd stuck around long enough to find out.

P.S. For the love of God, please stay out of public bathrooms from here on out.

Posted by: Melissa at January 16, 2008 12:08 AM

If they can fit twenty clowns in a tiny car, imagine how many clowns were REALLY in that stall. *Shudder*

Posted by: Tink at January 16, 2008 4:17 PM

I bet that lady stood next to you on purpose so when she farted, everyone would think it was you!

Posted by: Carrie Jo at January 17, 2008 12:31 AM


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