I had my usual home-punk cowboy clown look going on. At this time in my life I was a clown in transition. Years of activist clown who was totally underground was suddenly very popular with everyone. I still had the look of the kind of clown who dumpster dives, rebels against authority and brawls a lot. I was in all intents an altruistic, good guy but I still had no clue how to be palatable to normal folks.My kid's Mom and most of my friends had left me after our Clown House had closed down. I was wide open to reinvent myself.
My friend gave me a ride to my gig that day. He was late so he ran out quick.
I discovered that I accidentally left my phone in his car. He was gone to work so I lightly touched the door handle to see if by chance it could still be open.
That's all the neighborhood eyes needed to see to immediately call the Police on me. I think it was the martial arts place across the street.
The rollers rolled up and apprehended me after a long no chase.
He searched me and asked what the story was.
I was suspicious after many years in the streets so I didn't give away too much info about anything.
It was looking like i was going to the hoosegow until Da Man, asked "Where do you work?"
I looked across the street and smiled for the first time.
"Across the street".
"Can you prove it?" he asked as we both turned to see my face plastered on the glass of the cafe across the street.
Same hat, same make up. The cop chuckled, put his book away "Carry on.". And I did carry on.
Nowadays I break into cars all the time and never get bothered because I'm sharply dressed and also I'm always leaving things rather than taking stuff.
I stopped wearing cammo and black. It was a different chapter, different era and it was not good tactics to fly that kind of flag. True Clown Ops require stealth and smart tactics. All that cammo made me look more homeless than freedom fighter.
Within a year I had transformed into the current situation.
Play to win.
No comments:
Post a Comment