Clowns on Thursday Afternoon.

I came in the back past the bathrooms. There were two men dressed like clowns sitting on the far left, trying to hide in the shadows. The very sight was like an attack on my senses. I stopped and stared. They wore different colored wigs and bright rubber noses and had white face paint which stopped three quarters up their foreheads.

On the right at the bar were Paul and Freddy; both innocently watching a twenty year old 49ers Super Bowl game on TV.

“Who're the two clowns?” I asked sitting next to Freddy.

“Rodeo's in town,” Freddy said keeping his eyes on the TV.

“You were having computer sex!” hissed one of the clowns. “With my damn wife!” he added, his voice rose to a squeal. He took off his rubber nose and slammed it on the bar like an exclamation point.

“Your wife is a fat pig!” the other clown pointed out. “She's a skank!”

“Outta bounds!” Paul said, staring at the TV.

“Flag on the play,” agreed Freddy.

“You been after her since Tulsa!”

“Ya gotta be kidding me, Barney! I'd rather drowned in my own vomit!”

“Off-sides!” Paul called out.

“Taunting,” said Freddy.

“I am not going to sit here and listen to this!” said the clown in the yellow hair. He threw money on the bar and flip-flopped out the bar in huge red shoes.

“Delay of game!” said Paul.

“No!” said the still seated remaining clown. “It's half-time. He'll be back.”

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